


The Trouble With Interests

by aberdeenfalls



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 39,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aberdeenfalls/pseuds/aberdeenfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Branwen has always had difficulty turning down propositions that interest her. When she recieves a vague invitation from Gandalf to a hobbit-hole in the shire with the promise of adventure she cannot decline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Curious Tempation

**Author's Note:**

> A friendly reminder that all characters and settings besides Branwen and Alane are not mine.  
> I am reposting this from fanfiction.net and I will update on both.

I stared at the message that had been left in the hands of the innkeeper of the Prancing Pony. Though from a trusted friend, it did not sit well with me. No, I was conflicted. I was bound for home earlier, or at least my temporary one in Imladris, to my sister, who I had left there. But I doubted I would return now, for the note read:  
Branwen,   
There has been an unexpected occurrence, as I ran into a person of interest in the very inn where you stand. This chance meeting has set many things in motion that you will not wish to miss, though such things are unsafe to discuss here. But, I require your skills.   
G.   
Yes. All it took was the promise of something interesting and my thoughts of home were stolen and replaced by the temptation of adventure left by that pointy-hatted bastard. A date and a hint of an address were left on the page. The shire, I thought, what an unlikely place for an adventure. And my mind was made. One good night’s rest, and in the morning I would ride. I looked around the room, happy I had not gotten comfortable. I stripped then, black clothes gave way to pale skin and curves, black hair fell loose and my icy grey eyes twinkled and grew worried at the same time.   
************************************************************************   
I found the hobbit hole with little trouble. The shire had always been one of my favorite places, with the hills rolling like peaceful waves. It looked like a considerable place to retire, though hobbits were folk of caution and I had doubts I would be welcome.   
I knocked once, loudly, for I could hear the commotion inside. A small hobbit opened the door, the frown on his face sinking deeper. Gandalf came up behind him and smiled. “Ah, Branwen, I am glad you’re here. Mr. Baggins, may I introduce Branwen Winterfire. Branwen, this is Bilbo.”   
I smiled slightly and bowed, before Gandalf rushed me off to the dining area, where 12 dwarves sat eating, though from the state of the floor, not much must have made it into their mouths. No wonder the poor hobbit was in a state. Yet, there was a merry feel in the air as I entered the room. Being the only female there, I was met by some stares. Gandalf quickly introduced me to the company as his friend and the dwarves went back to eating, though I caught their stares when they thought I wasn’t looking. I stood beside Gandalf, expectantly.   
“Are you going to tell me why you called me to a hobbit hole filled with dwarves before I could even return from my last... expedition?” I tilt my head to the side and look at my old friend.   
“In time, Branwen, in time.” He responds, a signature all-knowing glint in his eyes.   
“Time is something I do not have… I left Rivendell over two years ago without a word to my sister, not even a note. I will be in enough trouble as it is, without you delaying me at what now seems to be a dinner party.” My head still curiously tilted, expression serious.   
“You know I would not have called you here if it was not a matter of importance. Is it not that knowledge and your own curiosity that brought you here in the first place? Now enough of your questioning”, Gandalf whispered, then dragged me to a seat beside his at the table. The dwarves were silently gulping back ale now, before letting out huge belches and continuing to eat. I watched, amused.   
“Eat,” Gandalf said, “For it will be a long while before you do so well again.”   
And I did eat, and I drank, and I made merry. Dwarves were always excellent company, particularly for drinking. Yet, I remained bothered by the fact that I was the only one at the table who did not know what the hell we were about to get into. I was surprised the dwarves offered me few questions; Gandalf’s referring to me as his friend must have been enough to silence them, at least vocally, for their eyes spoke for themselves. Still, besides this slight annoyance of questioning looks and my own lack of information, it was one of the better evenings I had had recently.   
Once the meal was done the dwarves began tossing about the plates, with Bilbo shouting something about his mother and over a hundred years old, when the dwarves burst into song:  
Blunt the knives, bend the forks  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks  
Chip the glasses and crack the plates  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat   
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor  
Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl  
Pound them up with a thumping pole  
When you're finished if they are whole  
Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!  
The song ended with laughter as Bilbo’s panicked face spread into a smile upon seeing the present state of his delicate silverware. The dwarves had perfectly stacked them into neat towers. The laughter died with a knock at the door.   
“He is here.” Was all Gandalf said, before disappeared to the door, quick as a cat, me and the rest of the company trailing behind. The door opened to reveal a regal looking dwarf in royal blue. His blue-grey eyes looked up.   
“Gandalf,” he said, “I thought you said this place would not be difficult to find. I got lost, twice. I would not have found it at all if it was not for the mark on the door.” I smirked at this, amused.   
“There is not a single mark on that door. It was painted last week.” Bilbo stated, a little anger in his voice.  
“Actually there is. I put it there myself.” Gandalf replied looking down at the hobbit. “Bilbo, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” And it all made sense then. Gandalf was planning to help the heir of Durin take back Erebor.


	2. Of Burglars and Bets

"So, this is the hobbit?" Oakenshield looked down at Bilbo. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The group laughed. I shot Bilbo a look of sympathy from the dark corner of the room, waiting for Gandalf to introduce me.

"There is another you should meet. Thorin, this is Branwen Winterfire." I stepped out from the shadows and lightly bowed. "You will find that she has much to offer." I flashed a smile in Gandalf's direction.

"Where we are going is no place for a Lady." Thorin seemed less than amused, and I was thoroughly annoyed.

"Well it is a good thing I am no Lady than." I said. "I know much about healing, and of the wild. I am more at home in the wilderness than any hall. And my skill with a blade is decent."

"You will need someone who knows how to survive in the wild, Thorin Oakenshield, and you will find no one better than Branwen." I smirked and leaned back. Oakenshield just gave a curt nod and continued to the dining hall, the rest of the company following behind. I rolled my eyes, and took a seat beside Gandalf in the dining room.

I watched the dwarves who sat gathered around the table. Thorin ate; much more politely than his kin. I was surprised Bilbo had anything left over after the raid on his pantry. They began to question Thorin before he could even finish eating.

"And what of our kin? What say the dwarves of the Iron Hills? Will they join us?" Dwalin questioned.

"They will not come." Thorin said. The disappointment was evident in his eyes. "They said this was our quest and ours alone." Yes, there would be few bold enough to face a dragon, whether they were kin or not. But there sat 12 dwarves ready to follow their king. Maybe loyalty made them foolish, but then what would that say about me? I owed Oakenshield nothing, but there was no way I was abandoning this quest.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo chimed in. A small smile tugged at my lips, for Bilbo was soon going to find out why so many had gathered in his home.

"Ah, Bilbo, let's shed a little more light on this." Gandalf removed a tattered map from his pocket.

"The lonely mountain," Bilbo read as the dwarves poured around the map and began to discuss their quest.

"This is an impossible task. We number only 13 and not 13 of the strongest… or the wisest." Balin stated bluntly. The table erupted as the dwarves began to argue.

"But we're fighters!" Shouted Fili. "Down to the last dwarf."

"And you forget, we have a wizard!" Kili joined in. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons! Tell them how many dragons you have killed!" Gandalf shifted uncomfortably and began to puff at his pipe as the dwarves stormed up insistently, demanding Gandalf to share.

"Enough." The roar shook across the room and the dwarves silenced on their king's demand. "The birds are returning to the mountain. Do you not think others have read these signs as well? Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Will we leave ours to the hands of others or will we take this chance to reclaim Erebor?" The cheers echoed across the table, except from Balin.

"You forget, the door is sealed, there is no way in." He stated.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf said, pulling a key from thin air. Leave it to the wizard to have the answer to everything up his sleeve. Thorin stared in amazement.

"How came you by this?" He looked up at Gandalf.

"Your father, Thrain, gave it to me for safe keeping and now it is my time to pass it along to you."

"If there is a key that means there is a door!" Fili shouted. Leave it to the young ones to point out the obvious.

"Yes, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." I decided to point out another obvious fact.

"The secret to that, my friend, lies in this map. The rune there marks the entrance to the door, these runes tell us how to find the door, but I do not have the skills to read it." Gandalf stated. "But there are others who do." Thorin looked curiously at Gandalf.

"Yes, but what of the beast?" Shouted one of the dwarves.

"Beast?" Bilbo questioned.

"That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible. An airborne fire breather with a taste for gold." Said Bofur.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is."

"The dragon will be difficult to get past, which is why we need a burglar." Shouted Ori.

"Yes," Bilbo said, "and an expert, I'd say."

"And are you?" All eyes were on Bilbo.

"Am I what?" Bilbo asked.

"He said he is an expert." Exclaimed Oin.

"What? No, I have never stolen a thing in my life!" Bilbo said, horrified.

"I would have to agree with Mr. Baggins, he is hardly burglar material." Balin said calmly.

"Aye, and the wild is no place for gentle folk who cannot fend for themselves. The hobbit and the girl have no place there," Dwalin said.

"Girl!" I shouted before Gandalf interrupted. The night had slowly drawn into the room as he began to speak, the candles grew dim.

"Mr. Baggins is a burglar if I say he is such! And Branwen knows the wild more than any dwarf in this company. Both have much to offer this company, more than anyone of us would expect, even from themselves." Gandalf eyed the hobbit as the light began to return to the room. "You must trust me on this."

"Very well." Thorin turned to Balin. "Give him a contract, and give the spare to the girl."

"I am no girl." And with a quick glare, I grabbed the contract from him, as Balin quickly explained its contents. I read it over to myself, before quickly signing. Balin took it from me and winked. I smiled back. Bilbo, however, took his time and began to read the contract out loud, particular concern arising from the mention of possible death.

"Laceration…evisceration…incineration?"

"Oh aye. Will melt the flesh right off your bones." Bofur mused. Bilbo let out a whimper.

"Are you alright there, laddie?" Balin said with concern.

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur added.

"I don't think that's helping." I said. The hobbit looked faint.

"Nope." Was all Bilbo said before falling to the floor.

Gandalf and I were up out of our seats and walked towards Bilbo. We helped him to his chair.

"I am alright, I just need to sit for a moment." Bilbo stated.

"You have been sitting all your life. Its time you took a step outside your door. Did you know your great -grandfather was tall enough that he could ride a real horse? In battle, he knocked the goblin-kings head off with his club and sent it down a rabbit hole. Thus the battle was won and the game of golf invented at the same time." I smiled at Gandalf's words to the hobbit.

"I do believe you made that up." Bilbo responded.

"All good stories deserve a little embellishment." Gandalf smiled.

"You promise I will come back, don't you?" Bilbo asked.

"No and If you do, you will never be the same."

"That's what I thought. I am sorry Gandalf." Bilbo got up and left. Gandalf watched him go.

"Don't worry Gandalf, he will change his mind. But I suppose you don't doubt that, do you?" I saw the twinkle in his eye and I smiled.

"And what makes you so sure?" I turned and looked at Dwalin. Kili and Fili, behind him.

"Simply because if he was not interested, he wouldn't have spent so much time observing the contract. That and the interest he took in the map. He wants to go but he is afraid." I replied with a simple shrug.

"Fear has no place on our quest." Thorin said as he entered the room.

"No, I am sure no one else on this quest fears being killed by a dragon." I responded. "Everyone has fear. I am afraid. But fear can be controlled. Mr. Baggins will learn that in time." I stood and walked out of the room.

I lay down outside the hobbit hole on my cloak. I could hear the dwarves still talking of home, when Thorin began to sing.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,  
To dungeons deep and caverns old,  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To seek our pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,  
While hammers fell like ringing bells,  
In places deep, where dark things sleep,  
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord  
There many a gleaming golden hoard  
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,  
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung  
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung  
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire  
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,  
To dungeons deep and caverns old,  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves,  
And harps of gold, where no man delves  
There lay they long, and many a song  
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the heights,  
The wind was moaning in the night,  
The fire was red, it flaming spread,  
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale,  
And men looked up with faces pale.  
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,  
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon.  
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.  
They fled the hall to dying fall  
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the Misty Mountains grim,  
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To win our harps and gold from him!

And I drifted into a deep sleep, the song resonating in my head.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hobbit did not join us as we started out on our journey, but our pace was slow, and I had faith Gandalf picked the right hobbit. I patted my jet-black mare, Stormdancer, who was growing restless at our pace. She was used to travelling fast and light and so was I, but for once I didn't mind the company.

"Do you still think the hobbit will join us?" Fili said, riding up beside me with Kili.

"Of course."

"Care to make a wager?" And a wicked exchange of bets began, most not in Bilbo's favor.

Not long after, we heard someone shouting.

"Wait! I signed it! I signed it!" Bilbo exclaimed, giving Balin the contract after catching up to the company.

"Everything is in order." Balin said with a wink.

"Get him a pony." Was all Thorin said, before he continued ahead.

"No… that really won't be necessary." Bilbo shouted, before Kili and Fili lifted him onto a spare pony.

The dwarves then began to exchange winnings (or losings for most). I was tossed two bags of silver from Kili and Fili. "My thanks, Mr. Baggins. For making me a bit richer."

"What is this about?" Bilbo asked.

"There was a wager on whether or not you would join us, my dear hobbit." Gandalf smiled.

"And what did you bet?" Bilbo's question was quickly answered by Gandalf catching a bag of silver for himself.

"I always had faith in you, as did Branwen." Gandalf said, and I gave the hobbit a nod, and a quick grin.

We rode for a while and the hobbit began to sneeze.

"This horse hair… My allergies. Wait, stop! We must go back. I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo exclaimed.

The dwarves laughed and Bofur tore a piece of his clothes, "Here". He said and tossed it to Bilbo. Bilbo looked a bit disgusted.

"You were born in the rolling hills of the shire. But home is behind you, the world is ahead. You will have to do without the comforts of pocket handkerchiefs." Gandalf proclaimed wistfully.


	3. Tales of the Past

Chapter 3

I sat beside Gandalf, Fili and Kili close by, all of us smoking. I had come to my own appreciation of pipe weed long ago and that appreciation had begun to rival Gandalf's. I needed it to relax. The area offered little shelter aside from the cliff, not that it mattered. The fire pretty much gave us away regardless. The view over the edge of the cliff was breathtaking, offering an opening to the night sky, with the view of trees. The smell of moss, dew, and fire clung in the air, and I felt at peace despite the danger. I let the pipe weed burn, smoking away, as I watched Bilbo attempt to sneak to the ponies. He was fond of Myrtle, his pony, whether he liked to admit it or not.

A shriek pieced the night making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and Bilbo stumbled away from the ponies and towards us.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Orcs." I turned and looked at Kili and Fili, not knowing which one said it.

"Orcs?" Bilbo's voice stuttered.

"Throat cutters. There are several roaming these parts. The area is crawling with them." Fili said and Bilbo gulped.

"They attack in the wee small hours while everyone is asleep. There are no screams, just lots of blood." Kili continued and Bilbo turned towards the directions of the shrieks. The brothers snickered while Bilbo turned away. What they thought was a joke was probably going to haunt the hobbit all night, not that an attack was unlikely. The fear was legitimate.

"Do you think an orc raid is a joke?" Thorin said, walking over. There was anger in his voice.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili looked down, ashamed.

"Of course you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Then Thorin marched away to the edge of the cliff. The brothers' heads hung.

I got up and walked over to the brothers and Bilbo. "Don't take what Thorin said to heart. He was right, an orc attack is no joke, but you are young, it is natural to laugh at thoughts of danger or others fear of it." I said, shifting my focus to Bilbo. All three of them looked at me, and I offered a small smile.

"And your uncle has more than fair reasons to hate orcs." Balin said behind me. "After Erabor fell, Thror sought to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But the enemy had beaten us there. There was little hope in the battle against the orcs. Our numbers were too few and the orcs were led by the most foul of their kind; Azog the Defiler." Balin's face grew grim. "He swore to wipe out the line of Durin and beheaded the king. It felt as though all hope was lost. But then I saw a young Dwarf Prince facing down the pale orc, using nothing more than an oak branch for a shield. He was able to take Azog's arm, and with that, the battle was won. However, there were no feasts or celebrations that day, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. But that was when I saw him and I thought: There was one I could follow! There is one I could call king."

All the dwarves had risen and were staring at their King. I stood there as well, and couldn't help but do the same despite already knowing this tale. I respected Thorin for his suffering and ethic only. He had worked hard and lost for his people. His grandfather's death and the loss of his father would have been a hard enough burden to bear without having to set aside who he was to labor in villages of men. It explained his cold exterior, though it did not excuse it. He looked upon us as we watched him, a mixture of grief and strength in his eyes, which intensified when Bilbo asked. "What happened to the pale orc?"

"That filth died of his wounds long ago." Thorin said angrily before marching off. I saw Gandalf and Balin exchange a look and I did not know what to make of it. I leaned against the rock and continued smoking. I knew no sleep would come for me. I watched Thorin. No sleep would come to him either. The stars were bright, and they gave me hope that I was doing right by joining this quest.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With no sleep, I rose just as the sun began to rise. The dwarves were not ones who were quick to wake and I knew I had some time. I searched for a stream, stripping off my grimy clothes, my translucent skin stained by dirt. I floated, allowing the dirt to be swept clean from my hair by the pebble-bottom stream. When I felt clean I rinsed off my tunic, and threw on a loose, lighter one. I laid out my tunic and settled down near a patch of wildflowers, staring at the stream. I knew I would sleep better now, but there was no time. I headed up the hill, back to camp.

As I walked up the hill, I saw Fili and Kili picking berries off a bush. I had been doing this for most of the trip, for I had no stomach for meat. They seemed to have caught on to what I had been doing, however, the fruit they were picking was very different from what I picked, the colour of them snow white. Just as Kili was about to eat one, I grabbed his wrist and yanked it sharply. "Those would kill you in half a heartbeat. They are extremely poisonous. The bush is so abundant for that reason. Did you eat any before I got here?" My words were harsh with concern. He shook his head. I looked at both of them. "Go wash your hands in the stream in case there is residue."

I walked back to the camp. The others' were just about to start eating. I sat beside the old wizard, and lit my pipe, watching Fili and Kili draw near. "Thank you for saving me." Kili said and Fili inclined his head.

"Don't thank me. Just be careful. I am sorry if my words were harsh, but you gave me a good scare." I smiled lightly at them and watched them walk away and grab their food, and eating quickly, with a few glances my way. Thorin also glanced in my direction and had clearly heard part of the conversation. He briskly walked over, his face less than amused.

"What exactly is it you saved Kili from?" He interrogated.

"Poisoning. He was about to eat some berries that were far better left alone." I responded simply.

"I see. And how is it you know so much of plants and herblore?" He continued, eyes narrowing.

"My mother. I am no elf, if that is what you are inquiring." I said as I tucked my hair back to show him my rounded ears. "Though, I lived amongst them for some time." He scowled at the thought.

"You do not have the look of a human, however." He pressed.

"No? That is because I am from a very distant place." I answered vaguely. "You wouldn't have heard of it."

"She is quite right, Thorin, you never would have heard of it." Gandalf replied. He sent me a smirk. "It was a very small and insignificant place."

"How do we know we can trust her if she reveals nothing about herself?" Thorin shot back.

"You will trust her because I trust her." Gandalf said, silencing the argument. The rest of the dwarves stared.

"Why did you leave your home? If you do not mind being asked…" Bilbo asked curiously. Everyone seemed to be listening.

"My sister had left and I followed." It was a simple answer. "Though I had friends there, I never considered it a home. There was too much isolation and neglect and all happiness had faded from that place before we left. That is all there is to say about that."

"Where is your sister?" Fili questioned.

"She lives among the elves of Rivendell. She has no desire for the wild, simply wanting peace. We are opposites in that sense. I could not stay in one place for very long. Often I have found more knowledge is obtained from travel and exploration than from books."

"So she is not like you?" Kili said.

I laughed lightly. "Not at all. She is fairer, her hair the colour of wheat, her eyes of honey and tanned skin. She is the summer and I, the winter. My hair blacker than the darkest winter night, my eyes the colour of Ice, my skin is the snow. We are inverses of one another. She is also better mannered and more lady-like." At this everyone laughed, besides Thorin.

"Enough questions everyone. You will have the rest of the journey to ask them, but for now we must move." Gandalf said sternly, but his eyes twinkled.

As we rode out, I saw Thorin stare. It was unnerving. Gandalf quickly rode up beside me.

"He suspects you are not what you say you are." Gandalf looked down at me.

"I never said I was anything. I implied I was human and I am." I stated.

"We both know that that is not entirely true." He said and then rode off.


	4. A Unique Set of Skills

We travelled without incident through a plain and forest and it was not long before I found myself walking. The slow riding over the course of the journey had made my legs stiff. I had given Stormdancer a free reign and could see her wandering close to the group, though I did not worry about her straying. She would return on my whistle. She was my most solid and faithful companion as she had accompanied me on many perilous journeys. I smiled and decided to give myself a free reign as well and burst into a run. I dodged the trees and brush of the forest with ease, my eyes alight. To the side of our group there was a hill, and I ran full speed towards it. I could hear the shouts behind me and Gandalf chuckle as I tumbled down the hill, rolling and avoiding trees. I landed gracefully on my feet at the bottom of the hill and breathed in, the air thick with moss, pine and moisture. It smelt of life and I could feel everything in the forest around me, my senses heightened.

I could still hear them calling after me as I climbed back up the hill and as I reached the top, I grabbed a branch and swung myself the rest of the way up the hill, landing gracefully on my feet. "You were calling?" I said, and let out a small, musical laugh. I felt my heart beating quicker, and made a mental note to run a bit each day. Gandalf was still chuckling, but Thorin was less than pleased.

"What were you doing?" His glare was hard and cold. I would have cringed but my adrenaline was finally pumping.

"Simply enjoying the forest, Oakenshield. We are moving agonizingly slow and my mind can only handle so much looking about before it desires connection with its surroundings. So I decided to take in my surroundings and see what it has to offer." I offered a small smile.

"And what could it have possibly offered?" You could hear the displeasure in his voice.

"There is a small stream near the bottom of the hill, clearly an ideal water source. The ground here is elevated, making it a sound place to rest for the night. Also, there are several berry bushes in the area... edible ones." I shot Kili and Fili a look. "And to your left, there is a bear and her cub." At that moment, Kili raised his bow. "Kili, this is their home we are passing through. Leave them be. It would be a waste of life to kill them."

"If we are to camp here, then they are a risk." Thorin shot back at me.

I walked past the group towards the two animals. As I got closer, I knelt towards the ground and began muttering unintelligible words to the two creatures. I had always had a way with animals; no matter how dangerous they seemed to others, I never found them to be such, even back home, though I was far less skilled then. First the mother approached slowly, sniffing me cautiously. I could hear Gandalf chuckling and telling everyone I was fine. Deciding I was no threat, she licked my face and I petted her shaggy, brown coat. She had kind eyes, a deep earthy brown, with the same affection all mothers held, whether they were animal or human. The cub bolted at me next, and I scooped her up into my arms and let her snuggle into my shoulder. I turned to the group then, and shouted "Risk? My ass…" I planted a small kiss on the cub's nose before putting her down and patting the mother one last time. The mother nuzzled into my hand and then turned to the left, calling her little one after her.

I returned to the group. "They will be no threat to us, like I said, so let's set up camp, shall we?"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could see the sun setting as I stood near the river alone, the air growing cool. I danced around the small area, practicing with my blade, alone. It was a light blade of elvish make, plain but beautiful. It was also light, made purposely for fighting with speed. I relied on that speed in battle, on being quick and deadly. My slender size put me at a disadvantage in terms of strength, but I made it my biggest asset. It was easy to dance around attacks. As I twirled, I heard the sound of steel meeting steel, and I saw that I had crossed blades with Fili.

"Impressive." He said, as Kili made his way over. I smiled. "Why don't we put your skills to the test though, and see how you handle an opponent." There was a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Why don't we make this interesting? If I can beat you and Kili, I will return the silver you lost betting against our burglar. And if I win, you two can stop following me every time you think I am going to the river to bathe." I winked at them knowingly.

"You want to fight both of us?" Kili looked a bit shocked.

"Yes, but don't worry. I will go easy on you." I smiled.

They were skilled, and relatively quick, but not fast enough. It took them a few moves to stop holding back and I still danced circles around them. It only took a few minutes before Kili was lying on his back in defeat and I had disarmed Fili and knocked him face first into the dirt. "Sorry boys." I smirked.

"So the girl can fight." Dwalin said, looking impressed from a nearby boulder he was perched on.

I laughed. "Stop calling me girl. My name is Branwen, and I am not young enough to be called girl anymore." Everyone seemed impressed with my display of skill, whispering amongst one another as I helped Fili up. As I went to help Kili, I felt his stare and it was colder than the bite of winter.

"You were trained by elves." He said, his voice laced with his hatred.

"You catch on fast, Oakenshield. It's not as if I told you this morning that I lived amongst them." I sneered a bit. "But if you require further information, I was trained by the Marchwarden of Lothlorien and served amongst them for a time." The company seemed shocked. They knew I lived amongst the elves, I thought my training would have been obvious.

"Yes, which means she has certain skills in battle that none of you possess, and those skills should be appreciated for their uniqueness." Gandalf spoke. I curtly nodded and leaned against a tree near where Kili had fallen.

"Why don't we really test how useful this uniqueness is in a real match instead of the game you just played?" Thorin challenged me.

"Curse your prejudice and stubbornness, Thorin Oakenshield. I won't allow such nonsense to continue." Gandalf's voice grew angry. I remained leaning against the tree, acting bored.

"Gandalf, its fine. If he publicly wants to lose to a woman trained by elves, I have no problem with that." I moved away from the tree towards the center of the group, sword in hand. "Ready when you are, Oakenshield"

Thorin began circling me, and I closed my eyes and let my body relax. I would need some self-control in this match. Before long I heard him come from my left and I quickly parried his attack. He did not hold back like his nephews had in the beginning of our match and I could tell he was stronger. He was also slower, thankfully. I knew he could easily knock my sword from my hand if I used it to parry his attacks, so I dodged his swings and used my sword for quick offensive attacks only. But, as I dodged, he took his weight and slammed into me. I fell into the water. As he approached, I tripped him and rolled on top. I punched him in the face before he rolled me over and had his sword at my throat, using his weight to hold me down. "Yield." His cold eyes bored into mine. But I smiled.

"Perhaps you should yield." I beamed at him, and pressed the knife I had drawn a bit more against his stomach. "Or perhaps we should sit here and see who will cut the other first. That does not seem like a good option, however. I believe this is called a draw, your Grace." He lowered his sword but stared at me hatefully, refusing to move. "If you would kindly get off me now." And he did and stormed away, his cheek cut and bruised from where I had punched him. I stood slowly, trying not to wince. My rib cage tightened, and I knew in the best case scenario it was bruised from where Thorin had slammed into me. I would check for myself when everyone was asleep.

As we ate, the other dwarves complimented me on my skills, not seeming to mind that they were taught to me by the elves. I received particularly high praise from Dwalin accompanied by a wink from Balin. Fili and Kili were in awe and all the while Thorin remained silent and brooding. Still, the meal was as merry as it could be, despite the pain.

Bilbo, clever as he was began to question me lightly. It seemed as though he paid more attention to the things around him, being said or done, than most of the dwarves, a valuable asset. "How old are you, Miss Branwen? To develop such skill and serve amongst elvish wardens, and all the while travelling and exploring…it would seem to occupy more years of life than you looked to have lived."

"Mr. Baggins, hasn't anyone ever told you, it is considered extremely impolite to ask a woman her age?" Seeing his blush and look of shame, I added with a grin, "More than twenty, less than two hundred." And I winked at him.

"I think its best that everyone gets some rest. Branwen, take the first watch." Gandalf ordered and I looked at him gratefully. My past and my age were not something I was ready to explain and Gandalf saved me from that. He also provided me with the excellent opportunity to patch myself up without the others noticing.

I waited until they had fallen asleep, and then moved to the other side of the tree I was leaning against and lifted my shirt to just below my breasts. I felt my ribcage and felt relieved that nothing had broken. I covered it with a thin layer of salve to reduce the swelling and help with the pain.

"I did that to you." I jumped as Thorin walked out from the other side of the tree. The bruise was a deep purple and ran up most of my side and part of my back.

"I am fine. No need to worry yourself or lose sleep over it. Not that I think you would." I lowered my shirt, for I did not wish to show him my injury to begin with, let alone a view of exposed flesh. "If you have nothing more to say, I would prefer it if you would leave."

"I am truly sorry for hurting you." There was a hint of guilt behind his eyes, just barely there, as he turned away.

I sighed, "Thorin, wait." I walked towards him and opened my container of salve and applied some to his face. He jumped at the contact. "Hold still. Your already overly-inflated head will be double the size by tomorrow if you don't use this. It will help with the swelling." I gently applied a bit more and moved away, returning it to my pack. "You're welcome." I returned to my watch.

"What is your purpose on this quest?" He asked. His tone was emotionless, but at least there was no malice. "Do you seek riches? Glory?"

"Ah, so your true intentions of joining me are revealed. You misjudge me, Oakenshield. I am not interested in such shallow things, nor did Gandalf promise me them when he summoned me. I simply seek to do what is right. That has always been my purpose. The loss of your home was an unfair injustice and I only hope that helping you return to it is the right thing."

"Touching, but why would an elf or at least a friend of elves as you claim to be, be interested in helping the likes of dwarves?"

"Your blind prejudice seems to stop you from seeing I am your ally, Oakenshield. Your arrogance and hatred will bring you no good in life, trust me." I looked up at him from where I was sitting. "You were not the only one who was arrogant today, however. I should have walked away from your challenge. I owed you no proof of my abilities. I could have been the better person and walked away. I was already confident in my own skills. I fought you because I wanted to show you that you were an arrogant bastard. In the end, I suppose I proved we both were."

With that I saw Fili rise, and walk over to relieve me from my watch. He eyed us suspiciously. I said nothing to Fili and did not wait for Thorin's response. I moved to the opposite end of the camp and I pretended to sleep as I felt his eyes stabbing me in the back. As I lay there, I wondered if his hatred for elves, who I now considered kin, would seal his fate, and thus my fate as well.


	5. A Song from Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Branwen sings is Prayer of a Refugee by Rise Against. I do not own the song.

Chapter 5

As we rode the following morning, my side and back screamed from the slightest movement and I determined, though not broken, that my actual bones had been bruised as well. That's what you get for being arrogant instead of walking away, was all I could think to myself as I rode. Breathing itself caused some form of agony, though it was tolerable. When I had looked this morning the outline of the bruise was beginning to fade to yellow-green, so at least I was healing. I let out a gasp however, when Stormdancer did a small jump to get over a log on the ground. I thought no one had heard. I did not want to give Oakenshield the satisfaction that I was bothered by my injury.

"You're hurt?" The hobbit's question seemed more like a statement. "It is from the fight yesterday. He hurt you."

"I brought this upon myself, Mr. Baggins." I said harshly. And then I felt guilty. "Thank you for your concern, but I have had far worse injuries than a bruised rib cage. I will be perfectly healed soon enough." I smiled lightly at him.

Bilbo nodded. "I really hope you do heal well. I don't understand though… what did you mean when you said you brought this upon yourself? Surely it is Thorin's fault, in a sense, since he caused your injury and initiated the fight in the first place?"

"Because my own pride prevented me from walking away. I did not and do not owe anyone on this group proof of my abilities, as my own confidence in them has always been enough for me. I accepted the challenge because I wanted to win and to boast my own talents. I enjoyed the match, I will not lie. But I think the injury was well deserved for my own arrogance, if that makes any sense at all."

"So, you are angry at yourself for accepting a challenge by a person who insulted you?" Bilbo tilted his head slightly. "No, it makes complete sense." He commented sarcastically. "At least now, he has some respect for you. At least now…he no longer sees you as a burden."

"His opinion of you is misguided.' I comforted, "You have done nothing to show that you are a burden and you have been self-reliant the whole trip. You may not be a fighter, Bilbo, but you aren't useless. The others find you to be of pleasant company, and I share their opinion, even if you have gotten overly inquisitive," I shot him a wink, "I think it has done you good. Thorin… he just needs time. He carries the weight of his people on his shoulder. It is an unimaginable burden." I looked at Bilbo kindly. "Try and remember that when he speaks to you." Bilbo nodded and I ruffled his hair. Then it started to rain.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We rode in the rain for several hours and the dwarves were beginning to grow dreary from being cold, wet and unable to smoke. Though I was disappointed that there was no hope for smoking, I could not help but enjoy the downpour, stripped down to my tunic and leggings so that my heavier clothing stayed dry. The dwarves' heavy clothing probably wasn't helping their spirits either. It clung to them heavily. It was not long before they were openly complaining.

"Mr. Gandalf, isn't there something you can do about this deluge?" Dori shouted from behind me.

"It's raining Master Dori and it will continue to do so until it is done. If you seek to change the weather, perhaps you should find yourself another wizard!" Gandalf exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

"Are there?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"Are there what?" Gandalf replied, still sounding slightly aggravated.

"Other wizards." Bilbo clarified. I smiled down at him. He liked this adventure more then he cared to admit and was quite a curious little thing.

"Oh, yes." This seemed to brighten Gandalf's mood. "In fact, there are five of us. Our leader is Saruman the White and then there are the two blues. You know, I have quite forgotten their names."

"And the fifth?" Bilbo shouted through the rain.

"Ah, that would be Radagast the Brown." Gandalf exclaimed, a small smile beginning to form as he thought of his wizard friend.

"And is he a great wizard, or is he more like you?" Bilbo inquired. I burst out with laughter which I immediately regretted as I bit back a gasp of pain while my rib cage ached tauntingly. Unbeknownst to my pain, Gandalf's face fell, obviously offended. The hobbit was a cheeky little bastard and clearly brave enough to insult a wizard. Gandalf sent me and the hobbit a glare before answering.

"I happen to think he is a very great wizard, in his own way." Gandalf finished, still not pleased with me or Bilbo. I thought I would try to remove some of mine and Bilbo's offence.

"Yes. Radagast has a way with animals. He has taught me many things that have helped me to survive in the wild, particularly with the all the different creatures running about." I added, smiling fondly.

"You seem to have had a great many adventures, lassie." Balin said, riding up beside me.

"Yes. I have been moving about since I was very young." I replied.

"Then tell us a story and take our mind off the rain." Fili shouted. Now all the dwarves were staring at me.

"I have few pleasant tales to take your mind off the rain, Master Dwarf." I responded. "You know of many of my experiences around Middle Earth. I have travelled to Gondor and Rohan amongst the Kingdoms of Men. There, I spent my time working and living. The rest has been spent tracking rogue Orc packs, the presence of which has seemed to have increased recently. There has not been much more to my life."

"Nonsense, Branwen, you are just being modest!" Gandalf exclaimed. "I am particularly fond of the tale of you and the wolves."

"That is a tale from my youth and not a particularly interesting one, but I suppose I can humor you, Gandalf." I spoke, beginning my tale amidst the solemn fall of the rain. "This is not a tale of grandeur or heroics. When I was young I would often go out into the wild on my own. I found peace in the empty woods, far away from any form of civilization. This time, I had found myself in the woods on a sloping mountain range. Winter had made its way across the range in the form of a storm. It came swiftly and I found myself lost and without shelter. I tried to keep warm, and huddled beneath a large pine for shelter. The wind was too strong for a fire and I knew I would surely freeze. That is when I saw the first of them. I barely caught a glimpse of the fur, grey and brown, and it was bigger then I imagined. Its eyes remained on me; I could see them through the storm. Soon, several more pairs of the glowing orbs surrounded me and at that moment, I prayed that the cold would take me instead of them. I began to whisper, perhaps even pray, as the alpha drew near. I had my knife out at this point, waiting for an attack that never came. Instead the wolf took hold of my pack and began to walk away, gesturing to me. I do not know why I followed, but I did. I was lead to a den not so far from where they found me and I remained huddled there, amongst the pack until the storm ended, warm and protected. From that point on, I trusted the wild more than I trusted people; for I found a far more caring presence amongst the creatures of the wilderness then I did amongst any people where I had grown." I breathed as I finished the story. I could feel the rain thinning now. The dwarves stared.

"Aren't wolves supposed to be killers?" Bilbo asked, looking at me.

"Not all of them. Evil was a creation of people. Wolves, where I am from, only hunted what was necessary for survival, and here it is often the same. If wolves attack folk, it is because they are under control of darker forces. I have shared camp with wolves in the wild here. It's much easier to sleep at night, as they are alert to the slightest sound. I find myself grateful in their company." I replied.

"How much time do you spend in the wild?" Fili asked.

"Often months, stopping in small towns or cities when I needed to. Before joining this journey, I had been wandering for two years, most of that time spent in the wilderness." I smiled, thinking back on those times not too long ago.

"Why?" Bilbo questioned.

"Self-reflection, mostly. When I am not tracking orcs, I am reflecting on myself, on how to better myself. My time spent in those villages was meant for work and further self-reflection through it."

"But if you lived amongst the elves, and even served with the Wardens, your life would have been comfortable, in both Lothlorien and Rivendell. Your sister still resides in Rivendell. Why give up such comfort for the wild and hard labor?" Bilbo inquired, still not understanding.

"I often find myself restless. I enjoyed my time as a Warden in Lothlorien and yes, when not on duty, I lived comfortably, as did my sister. However, The Lady of the Wood knew I sought travel, as did my sister, though in a different way, and she released me and sent us to Rivendell. I have since travelled into the wilderness and in turn villages, to see what I could learn from both types of places. I take myself away from comfort to remember my own appreciation for hard work. I feared going soft if I gave up hard labor and I also felt as though my own luxury and riches needed to be earned, as I have never been used to living for free."

"Hard labor?" Dwalin seemed surprised.

"I served as a Warden for the elves, do you really think I would have settled for making doilies and sewing? I mean, I know how to do both, but I sought work that would make me sweat."

"Yes, I recall you are a talented blacksmith, a trade you picked up from your home." Gandalf commented.

"Yes, though it was a dying trade. My people forgot that kind of skill, especially when they commissioned others to do their work for them. I learned from one of the few that remembered. He was encouraging and an excellent teacher. I was lucky to have learned."

"And your sword is of your own making, isn't it?" I looked at Gandalf and sent him a small glare. He knew the answers to these questions and I was less than amused by how he was trying to get me to reveal myself.

"Yes. I crafted it in Lothlorien. Though elven blades are light, they did not fit my style, or my size." I pulled my blade. "I needed a sword I could dance with, since, as you have seen, I rely on my mobility." I could see the displeasure on Thorin's face as I told this story. It probably involved too many elves for his liking. "I may look like an elfin fighter, but put me fighting beside one and the difference is obvious. Making my own blade was necessary." The rain had stopped now and the night was approaching. Balin examined the blade.

"You have skill, lass." He commented. The rest of the dwarves seemed to be in agreement.

"Thank you." Their praise meant much to me, for I knew dwarves were known for their forging abilities. Thorin had remained silent through this, but he seemed displeased, which was not unusual.

"We break for camp." He said gruffly, in what I assumed was to take the dwarves' attention away from me and it worked, for the dwarves dismounted and busied themselves.

I dismounted slowly and grunted as my rib cage throbbed. This injury was becoming a nuisance and I nearly let out a whimper as I changed, but at least it was continuing to fade. I applied more salve and just as I slipped the dry tunic on, I saw Thorin. I would have blushed, for I know he would have seen more than my bruise from the look on his face, but I am not quite so modest. It would not have been the first time a man has seen me naked or in this case somewhat naked. He was looking away now and I was amused. "Did you want something, Oakenshield?"

"You took off as soon as camp was set up." He grunted.

"Yes. Excuse me for wanting some privacy as I changed. Are you still that paranoid about my motivations?" I frowned.

He ignored me. "Your bruise, it seems to be improving."

"Yes."

Thorin nodded. "Good. Perhaps it will teach you something. Now, return to camp and help Gloin with the fire." So much for caring, but two could play at that game.

"And maybe your bruise has taught you something about your own arrogance as well." I glared and walked off, not waiting for his reply.

I approached Gloin after grabbing something from one of my secondary packs. "The wood from here is too wet to start a fire, it's just going to smoke." I began unpacking dry kindling. "I gathered this earlier, as I expected it was going to rain." I created a structure of kindling and placed some dry moss in the centre, and it quickly took flame. "Always have to think ahead." I said with a wink. Once the flame was steady, Gloin added a few large logs to the fire.

The dwarves ate and they sang, and Thorin glared. And I glared back. The rest of the camp became background noise and I barely heard them talking to me.

"I am sorry. What did you say?" I asked, changing my expression quickly.

"We want to know if you can sing, lass." Bofur asked.

I laughed. "Not well, but I can sing if you want." And the company cheered, except for Thorin.

"You will have to forgive me, for I do not know many cheerful songs. This one is from when I was young. " And I began to sing.

Warm yourself by the fire, son,  
And the morning will come soon.  
I'll tell you stories of a better time,  
In a place that we once knew.

Before we packed our bags  
And left all this behind us in the dust,  
We had a place that we could call home,  
And a life no one could touch.

Don't hold me up now,  
I can stand my own ground,

I don't need your help now,  
You won't let me down, down, down!

Don't hold me up now,  
I can stand my own ground,  
I don't need your help now,  
You won't let me down, down, down!

Down!

We are the angry and the desperate,  
The hungry, and the cold,  
We are the ones who kept quiet,  
And always did what we were told.

But we've been sweating while you slept so calm,  
In the safety of your home.  
We've been pulling out the nails that hold up  
Everything you've known.

Don't hold me up now,  
I can stand my own ground,  
I don't need your help now,  
You will let me down, down, down!

Don't hold me up now,  
I can stand my own ground,  
I don't need your help now,  
You won't let me down, down, down!

So open your eyes child,  
Let's be on our way.  
Broken windows and ashes  
Are guiding the way.

Keep quiet no longer,  
We'll sing through the day,  
Of the lives that we've lost,  
And the lives we've reclaimed.

Go!

Don't hold me up now,  
I can stand my own ground,  
I don't need your help now,  
You won't let me down, down, down!

Don't hold me up now,  
I can stand my own ground,  
I don't need your help now,  
You won't let me down, down, down!

Don't hold me up...  
(I don't need your help, I'll stand my ground)  
Don't hold me up...  
(I don't need your help)  
No! No! No!  
Don't hold me up!  
(I don't need your help, I'll stand my ground)  
Don't hold me up!  
(I don't need your help, I'll stand my ground)  
Don't let me down, down, down, down, down!

I stopped singing and found them staring once again and I began to question my choice of song. Gandalf spoke first. "That song seemed angry and familiar."

"Yes, that's why I chose it. It reminded me of your story and your strength." I replied, looking at the dwarves. They nodded in approval and remained quiet. Thorin's eyes locked with mine again, but instead of a glare, there was an emotion there that I could not understand and it made my sleep restless that night.


	6. A Planned Destination

Chapter 6

I spent the next day's ride in and out of sleep, resting my head on Stormdancer's neck. The lack of sleep the night before left me feeling groggy and my brain hammered against my skull. The pain from the bruise however was beginning to numb, thankfully. I spent most of the ride in silence, attempting to catch up on some sleep.

As darkness began to approach, we found ourselves on an abandoned farm. I knew this place, for I had worked here not so long ago in the past, yet now the house and stables had collapsed, the wild grass taking over and I was left with an eerie feeling to accompany the sadness this farm now brought.

"A farmer and his family once lived here." Gandalf said, as though reading my mind and my head hung low. "Perhaps it is best we moved on. We could make for the hidden valley."

"Gandalf is right." I interjected. "They will offer us more than we need. Our supplies are running low."

"I said this before. I will not lead my company to that place." Thorin growled.

"We have a map we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to with your stubbornness." Gandalf exclaimed in frustration.

"I did not realize they were yours to keep." Thorin snapped.

With that, Gandalf turned and stormed towards his horse. I followed.

"Where are you going?" Bilbo shouted.

"To be with the only people in this company who have any sense." Gandalf bellowed back.

"Who's that?"

"Myself and Branwen." Gandalf shouted before riding off. I swung up onto Stormdancer.

"You're leaving too!" Bilbo cried out.

"This place holds more sorrow than I can bear. Perhaps we shall return when our leader comes to his senses and we carry on from this dreary place." I replied, before galloping off after the old wizard.

"What are you doing?" I asked the wizard as he explored the grassy plane with sheets of rock emerging.

"Seeing if I can still remember the way." Gandalf answered simply.

"So you mean to lead them into Imladris despite Oakenshield's objections." I stated more than asked.

"It would be foolish not to take this opportunity. Though I was surprised to find you agreed to go to the valley." That old bastard, now I felt offended. I shot him a glare. "I meant because of your sister, Branwen. I did not intend to offend." But his eyes twinkled. I just smirked. Cheeky fool.

"I would not compromise the safety of this group due to fear of repercussions from my previous actions," I explained, "Nor due to personal reasons, unlike our leader."

"Yes, his blind prejudice for the elves has proved difficult, though he has his reasons."

"You are quick to defend his hatred when he is not present, Gandalf." I tilted my head and he shot me a look.

"I did not say he was right. It is unfortunate and a flaw that he allowed one elf to strengthen his contempt for all those of elvish kin." Gandalf sighed.

"Thranduil had his reasons. His people would have been endangered if pursued by a dragon. They live in a forest for fucks-sake." I fumed in frustratration.

"Yes, this is true. But what would you have done?" Gandalf questioned.

"I… I would have led those who would have followed me against the dragon, like the fool I am." I sighed. "I could not have seen Erabor fall and all those people dead or dying and turned away. It would have weighed too heavily on my mind."

Gandalf's eyes twinkled, "Thranduil made the right decision for his people, perhaps the wiser decision. You seem to only make decisions that are just for all people. You see everyone intrinsically in terms of value, every living being counts as one life and you cannot bear the loss, no matter whose life it is."

"We are both aware I am an idealist, Gandalf. Perhaps it is because I have no people, and no kin beyond my sister." I breathed. "If orcs were not so damned evil, and killed for pleasure, I would be a person of peace, instead of the killer I have become."

"Was your first kill difficult? You never told me." Gandalf asked.

"No." I stated simply, "I could see the evil and the intent to kill and that took away my own guilt. I knew if I didn't slay that first orc, one of the other wardens would have died… Though I still wish I did not have to kill."

"Everyone does." Gandalf comforted and offered me some Old Toby before we fell silent for a time.

We rode back to the camp, but found it empty. The fire was still burning and I could hear faint shouts in the distance. I motioned for Gandalf to follow. I could smell the trolls before I saw them. They had half the dwarves on a spit, slowly roasting them, the other half bound in sacks.

"We can't even leave them alone for a few hours without trouble," I joked half-heartedly. "I assume you have a plan."

"The sun is nearly up." Gandalf replied. "We just need some time."

As though he had heard the Wizard, the hobbit popped up. "No, stop!" The dwarves began shouting about how it was hopeless, but Bilbo just continued. As he spoke, I immediately understood what he was doing; that genius. "That's not the proper way to cook dwarf… I mean have you smelt them? You will need something a lot stronger than sage to cover up the stench of that lot."

"Well, c'mon. Tell us the secret." One of the trolls snarled, squinting at the hobbit suspiciously.

"The secret to cooking dwarves is….the secret is… to skin them first." The Hobbit exclaimed. The dwarves burst into an out roar. I could see Dwalin threatening Bilbo with death as he was tied up to the spit.

"Nonsense!"shouted a troll. "I have eaten plenty of raw dwarf." And with that, he lifted up Bombur, and was about to eat him. I went to move to attack, but Gandalf stopped me. Bilbo once again, came to the rescue.

"Not that one! He's… He's infected!" The small hobbit cried out. "He has worms… in his tubes. In fact they all do. Nasty business. I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't." The dwarves started shouting again about how they didn't have any parasites. Balin was not wrong when he had said that they weren't thirteen of the brightest. I saw Thorin kick Kili. At least one of them had some sense to catch on. And the shouting changed.

"I have the biggest parasites!" Kili declared. And the dwarves continued to shout out their infections.

"I know what you are trying to do!" A troll roared, pointing at Bilbo.

"Gandalf, we need to do something, now!" I whispered. If only the sun was a bit higher.

Suddenly, Gandalf jumped out from behind the tree and shouted, "May the Dawn take you all!" With that, he cracked the boulder he was standing on in half, and the trolls turned to stone as the sunlight, which had just been obscured by the boulder, doused them in rich morning light.

"Oi! Get your foot out of my back!" Dwalin shouted. I laughed slightly, before putting out the fire and helping the dwarves off the spit.

I then went over to Bilbo, while Gandalf and Thorin stood talking. "That was brilliant thinking Bilbo." I said, smiling.

"You saw?" He went wide-eyed.

"Of course! I was with Gandalf. You bought him just enough time. You saved everyone, really, though Gandalf helped a bit." I sent him a small wink. "Though, I was worried. Certain dwarves did not seem to have the wits to catch on to your plan!" I got a little louder as I said that.

"Hey!" Kili shouted out in offence.

"Sorry, Kili. Didn't mean to offend… well actually, I did, a little." I had to move out of the way as he dove at me. I laughed as he hit the ground, and shook my head as I helped him up.

Just as Kili was brushing himself off, Thorin commanded, "Follow me!"

He led us into a cave. I could smell rotting flesh. "Argh… it's a troll hoard." I would have vomited if there was anything in my stomach. I looked around, and gathered a few things of interest, a few small daggers and the like. The dwarves had started to dig, clearly wanting to return for the treasure. I had little interest in the gold. I turned and, was, however, interested in the blades Gandalf and Thorin held.

"These were forged in Gondolin, by the High Elves." Gandalf explained, excitedly. Thorin just looked disgusted and went to throw the sword back. "You could not wish for a finer blade." Gandalf added sternly and that seemed to change Thorin's mind. We then left the troll hoard behind, and I happily stepped out of the cave and into clean air. The simple pleasure of being able to breathe through my nose was revitalizing, however it did not last long.

I could hear the rustling in the trees as Gandalf cried, "Quickly, together now!" And suddenly a sleigh of rabbits burst through the trees.

"Radagast!" I shouted.

"What brings you here, my friend?" Gandalf asked before I could continue.

"I must speak with you Gandalf!" Radagast exclaimed. The two wizards quickly walked off to the side and I followed.

"Oh. What was it? The thought! It was on the tip of my tongue!" Radagast cried when he couldn't remember.

"Just breathe and concentrate, Radagast." I said kindly, while looking at Gandalf with concern. Radagast no longer had the best of memories, but the reason why he was here must have been of extreme importance for him to travel such a long way.

"Oh. It wasn't a thought at all. It was a silly old stick insect." Radagast chimed happily, pulling it off his tongue. I cringed. Wizards were odd.

Radagast soon remembered. He explained the plague spreading through the Greenwood and the spiders that he followed to Dol Guldur. He spoke of a necromancer that could bring back the dead. I almost did not believe him until he showed Gandalf the Morgul Blade.

"I have only read about such things." I whispered, fear spreading throughout my body. To bring back the dead was a rare and often evil gift; that was all I could think before I heard the growl.

"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo cried out.

"No, that was no wolf!" Bofur shouted. I could see the warg then, descending down the slope. Kili shot it and the other dwarves finished it off. Thorin slew the second on his own with his new blade.

"Warg scouts! Which means an orc pack is not far behind! We must move quickly." Thorin demanded hurriedly.

"We can't!" Ori despaired, "The ponies, they have bolted." I knew Stormdancer would have as well, if she saw no safe passage to me.

"We need a distraction!" I yelled.

"Alright!" Radagast answered.

"Those wargs will outrun you!" Gandalf warned his friend.

"I would like to see them try!" Radagast responded before hopping on his sled and taking off through the woods in a blur.

The wargs swiftly pursued him and once Radagast was a safe distance, our company quickly followed Gandalf. We wove between rock formations and I could tell Gandalf was leading us to the Hidden Valley.

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin commanded. Thorin was catching on to Gandalf's plan, though I doubted he would argue much at this particular moment. Gandalf eyed him and we continued to move.

We were spread out against a large amount of rock when one of the orcs broke away from the main pack. It was now standing right above us. Thorin gave Kili the signal to shoot, however the rider and its beast did not die quietly and alerted the rest of the pack. Gandalf lead us and we ran fast across the plane, but soon found ourselves surrounded and Gandalf missing.

"The Wizard! He has abandoned us!" Dwalin roared.

Why was everyone in this company so quick to lose faith I thought, eyeing a group of familiar rocks. So that's where he went! I smiled to myself as Gandalf's head rose over the rocks. "This way, you fools." He ordered.

I remained on the field and continued to fight as the others moved in. As I killed one orc, another charged past and attacked Thorin. Kili remained shooting as the pack pressed in closer.

"Kili!" Thorin shouted after the rest of the company had climbed into the gap, but Kili did not seem to hear. Being close to him, I grabbed his collar and dragged him just as a pair of riders drew particularly close. I threw Kili into the hole and jumped after him quickly. I was followed by Thorin, who landed heavily.

The elvish horns soon blew and I knew our enemy was no more. This was reinforced by a particularly vile corpse dropping into our hiding spot. Thorin quickly removed the arrow from the body. "Elves!", He spat, as though they were worse than the attack we had just faced.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads." Dwalin called. "Do we follow it?"

"Of course." Bofur replied, and we made our way through the tunnels, until we exited to one of my favourite views. The waterfalls flowed down into the valley, all the trees were green and the house of Elrond shone in the sun.

"This is the valley of Imladris."Gandalf stated. "Though it is known by a different name in the common tongue."

"Rivendell." Bilbo said in amazement, stopping on the path to take in the view.

"So, this was your plan all along? To lead us into the hands of the enemy." Thorin glared at Gandalf.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. Only the ill will you bring here, yourself..." Gandalf replied.

"You are a fool, Oakenshield. We left the enemy on the plains. This place and those within it will only offer us safety." I looked at the dwarf, annoyed. He ignored me.

"Do you think that the elves will not try and interfere with our quest?" Thorin growled.

"Oh, I have no doubt they will try and stop us." Gandalf shrugged, not seeming to be too bothered with that.

"They only will if we tell them of the quest, but it's not as if they need to know." I pointed out. "Let's continue, shall we?"

"This will involve a great deal of tact and no small amount of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me." Gandalf said with a small smile and I laughed as we made our way down to my current place of residence.


	7. Forgive Me Dear Sister

Chapter 7

We stood at the base of the stair expectantly as Lindir descended. I glanced around and the dwarves seemed less than pleased, but followed Gandalf's instructions and remained relatively quiet. I was growing nervous, for I had left this place without mention a few years before. The thought of my sister's reaction addled at my mind as Gandalf spoke.

"We need to speak to Lord Elrond." Gandalf informed Lindir.

With a hint of smugness on his face, Lindir answered, "My Lord Elrond is not here at the moment."

"Oh and where is he?" Gandalf asked, taking none of Lindir's smugness. He was answered with the sound of a horn and approaching horses. It was Lord Elrond himself that had come to our aid. The horses began to circle around the dwarves and me. I saw them raise their weapons, and rolled my eyes at how threatened they felt by the people who had just saved us. I stayed hidden amongst the dwarves, trying to prolong the time I had before I was discovered. Elrond quickly rode up to Gandalf and exchanged greetings. He then turned to Thorin.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." Elrond greeted.

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin replied coolly.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain." Elrond informed.

"Funny, he made no mention of you." Thorin remarked. I could have hit him.

Elrond stared for a minute and turned to Gandalf, making him an offer for dinner.

"What does he say? Does he offer us insult?" Gloin shouted. I rolled my eyes again.

"No, he is offering you food." Gandalf emphasized.

The dwarves whispered amongst themselves before replying, "Well alright then."

Before we made our way upstairs, Elrond smiled at me, "Do not think your presence has escaped my attention, Lady Branwen."

"Nor mine." A rider said, striding up beside me and hoping down, removing the helm. Wheat coloured hair poured around a feminine face with honey eyes and I choked under her stare. "You left in the middle of the night and went missing for years!" She pulled me into a deep hug, then glanced at me and said, "You look ghastly. You always do when you come home. It's like you forget you are a lady."

"I try, dear sister." I smiled.

"Wait! You're a lady?" Ori shouted. "You told us you weren't." The rest of the dwarves grumbled in silence. And Thorin stared.

"Yes she is, though she has proven more a warrior and a craftswoman than a lady." My sister told the dwarves as she linked her arm through mine. "I shall have to remind her what she really is." With that, my sister began to drag me up the stairs and I shot Gandalf and Elrond pleading looks. Gandalf only smirked as I was dragged to my room.

"I see you and Lord Elrond left everything untouched." I commented, as I glanced around. My books lay scattered across the desk and floor, the walls painted with scenes filled with lore and history, surrounded by ivory and violet curtains. The benches, chairs and bedding were donned in the same hues. The room was quite beautiful, more so than I remembered.

"Changing it would have meant I thought you would never come back." My sister looked away as she spoke.

"Alane…" I began.

"How could you have just left." She looked at me then, tears in her eyes.

"I have left before." I looked down, drenched in my own guilt.

"You left in the middle of the night without word." Her words were rage and sorrow, and I knew I had hurt her.

"I cannot offer you the explanation you want, Alane. l went because I needed to leave for a time and I knew you would not want me to go. I can offer no justification for my actions." I bowed my head.

"You have always led a different life than the one I chose, even when we were children. When we were young, I wonder if you cared, or if you were just concerned with your own freedom. You proved me wrong so many times in that regard. Often I wish you would stay. There will be a time when you do not come home." There was sadness and knowing in her eyes, and I brought her close.

"It was not I who never ended up returning home, even if it should have been." I released her.

"No. You're right." She ended, "Bathe, you aren't fit for dinner… though you are cleaner than your companions. I will be back to help you dress."

The bath water was black by the time I was done washing and I slipped into my undergarments, with one last disgusted look at the water. My sister was already in my room, dress at hand. She was elegantly dressed, in a fine emerald gown, making her wheat hair shine, as she reflected the season and the approach of midsummer. The gown she held for me was black, with a midnight blue bodice, trimmed with silver-blue lacing, reflecting the winter ingrained in myself. I slid into it, and she helped with the lacing. I groaned as she tightened the lacings, a small reminder of Thorin's bruise still lingering on my ribcage. Thankfully, she left it relatively loose. In silence, she did my hair and it fell in ebony waves, completed with a silver head piece.

"You look like a proper lady." She remarked, smiling at my reflection. I sneered in disgust and she laughed, linking her arm in mine as we made our way to dinner.

The shocked look on the dwarves' faces was enough for me to allow a small smile to grace my lips, despite the uncomfortable situation. My sister and I made our way to the head table where Gandalf, Lord Elrond and Thorin sat. All three of them stood and I rolled my eyes. My sister nudged me slightly, a warning to behave. Gandalf, however, seemed amused by my reaction and even more amused as Thorin pulled out my chair for me. I inclined my head, and wondered if he would treat me differently after seeing me in skirts. This troubled me, for he and all the other dwarves knew I was a lady now. I blushed heavily for the first time in many years, feeling more exposed in this dress than that night he found me half naked, checking the wounds he gave me. I sat quickly and kept my head bowed.

Elrond began to tell Gandalf and Thorin of their swords. They were forged in the first age, Glamdring was the name of Gandalf's, and it belonged to the King of Gondolin. Thorin's was Orcrist, the goblin-cleaver. I was envious. Such weapons were no longer seen, and my own blade was lacking in comparison. Still, I did not know if I could part with a blade that I had forged myself. Thorin caught my stare, and looked towards the others, trying to hide my envy.

Ori sat, complaining about the green food. I laughed as I watched them pick through the food, looking for some form of meat. I was quite relieved for the greens. My own rations on the trip were quite bland, and fresh greens were always considered a luxury by me. The dwarves were quite messy, showing no more refinery amongst the elves than they did at Bilbo's home. Only Thorin ate politely, he even spoke relatively politely, considering he was amongst elves.

Elrond quickly turned the conversation towards me. "And how did you come across this company, Lady Branwen?" he inquired. The question held a thousand more meanings then what he let on. He wanted to know the dwarves plan, where they were going, why they travelled this way.

"Gandalf had heard I was in Bree, and extended me the offer of joining them as they moved East. Intending on travelling that way anyway, I did not intend on refusing an offer to accompany an old friend." I replied, a half-truth said with an honest face.

"I see. Having company on your travel must have been different for you, as you often travel alone." Elrond knew I had lied, in some way, though I had no intention of giving anything away, now or later.

"Yes. It was different, though it had been awhile since I have been around such interesting company. Most of my recent journeys have limited me to the wild, with a few villages scattered between. It was nice to travel with others, especially since it made sleeping at night easier." I locked eyes with Elrond, silently signaling I had no more to say.

"Do you plan on remaining here long? I know your sister wishes you to stay." Elrond continued, despite my silent protest.

"I do not know. I often do not plan when and where I travel, as you know. Though, I doubt it. I have unfinished business to attend to." My face remained expressionless. I had learned to lie while telling the truth long ago, though I felt a tinge of guilt at the mention of Alane.

"Branwen was meant to wander. As a child she would disappear in the woods for hours, with age, it became days, and soon months, the distance growing each time. I doubt she even intended on stopping here in the first place. I see no point in questioning what we already know." My sister's eyes twinkled, and I shot her a glance of thanks, as she ended the conversation.

"Ah. Moon runes." Elrond said after Thorin had finally given him the map. "They can only be read under the light of the same moon, of the same season from which they were written. It seems these were written under a crescent moon on a mid-summer's night. In a few days that same moon will appear in the sky. Only then can I read this map." Elrond handed the map back to Thorin. "Until then, you are welcome to the hospitality of my house."

Thorin nodded graciously and we returned to the company. The dwarves themselves had refused individual rooms, mistrusting the elves to the point that they feared being separated. My sister sat with them, laughing, clearly enjoying the company.

"Tell us about where you and Branwen are from." Kili demanded of my sister. I froze and Thorin remained beside me, staring. We were still in the shadows.

"Branwen does not seem to like to speak of it." Bilbo commented a little softer.

"No, I highly doubt she would. It causes her pain, to remember the place, even if her memories are not fond. Leaving cost her more than it cost me." My eyes closed and I prayed silently for her not to tell. My own body was rigid as I waited for her to speak. "Would you like to hear that story?" And old memories tumbled down around me.


	8. My Sister Had a Home

Chapter 8

I made to move towards my sister, to stop her, but little did I know, Gandalf was beside me and he held me back. "This is her story to tell as well, perhaps more so than yours, in some ways. Let her tell the tale, for I know you cannot."

I sunk back and kept my head down. I could not quite understand my feelings, for there was nothing shameful about my past actions, yet I felt scared for the first time in a long while.

"It began long ago. In a world quite different than what you live in. It was a relatively hopeless place. The wild had been destroyed by men and there was little magic left, not that many believed in magic anyway. Our existence there, though grim, did not leave us wanting. Our family was considerably well- off, though not overly-so. It allowed Branwen and I to live the lives we wanted. Mine, a life of social activity and enjoyment; I never left behind my own security. During that time I was too preoccupied with petty things. Branwen… She was different." Alane paused, and looked at her feet. "She was never home. We were separated by four years and from the time I was fourteen until I was eighteen, I never saw her for more than a few days at a time, scattered throughout the year. When she was not in school, she was off, working in different countries, trekking the entire world, crossing seas, sleeping in woods, climbing mountains, and making deeper connections with people than me, despite my social tendencies. She traveled, working and living more thoroughly than myself. Her home was the whole world, her kin everyone she met. Then there was me, jealous and resentful of her. She would come home briefly, always bearing small gifts from where she had been. They were rare things and I pretended I hated them and that I hated her. I did not realize until later that it was because I knew she was living and I was not.

"It was almost my nineteenth birthday when it happened. I was intoxicated and on my friend's boat, which was hosting another party. I remember falling and slowly drowning. All I could think was I cannot die… I haven't seen anything, done anything, as all the life faded from me." My sister grew quiet again. "I was made an offer upon my death. I was offered life again. If I chose it, an immortal life in a different world. But, it meant never being reunited with my kin. I would have purpose in this world. That is what the Valar told me. Yet, I refused, for the small promise of reuniting when death sought them out. Perhaps not the wisest, for the Valar seemed to have other plans.

"From what I understand, They found Branwen, and told her of the offer they made me and of my refusal. She was then offered a place beside me, a chance to see me living again, instead of cold and dead, on a table in the morgue. She accepted the offer, sacrificing her life, so that I could have a second chance to live mine. I will never be able to repay her. That world, full of the connections and relationships she had built, the world that had everything; she just gave it up for me. I never knew how much she loved me until then." A slight tear formed in Alane's eye and she looked towards me as I stepped out of the shadows, my own eyes were dark and tearing, my body numb from her words.

"It's true." I whispered, as I looked at the company and to Thorin. "Our whole world was my home and I had nearly traveled every inch of it. It had everything… but, in the end, it did not have you, little sister." I embraced her lightly. "I will never regret that decision." And we all fell silent for a long while.

I lay in my chambers, unable to sleep, thinking of my sister and of my youth. Frustrated, I rose from my chambers and in nothing but my bed clothes and bare foot, I ran to the gardens. The stars were different here, but I could still rely on the sun rising in the east. I rested upon the grass and waited for the sun to rise over the valley.

I had heard him following me through the halls, but paid no mind. Dwarves were not the quietest of folk. It was not long before he was before me.

"That is hardly modest." Thorin's tone was dark as he gestured at my night gown.

I rolled my eyes. "I highly doubt you came out here to question my modesty, not that it is any of your concern. Besides, you have seen me in worse." I said, reminding him of the time he had found me fixing up the injuries he had caused me.

His eyes grew darker, "You were right. You are no lady."

I let out a bark of dark laughter. "Often, you are quite right. I am only a lady when I want to be. Dresses and elaborate hair styles are hardly fit for travel, though I do enjoy them on occasion." His figure towered over me as he stood. If I were to stand beside him, I would only stand an inch or so higher. Where my sister was tall, I was short, inheriting opposite traits from our parents. I studied him. "What is it that you want, Oakenshield?"

"Gandalf said your story was true, that you are of another world. You gave up your home, and now you are fighting to win our home back. Why?" He questioned, the need to understand in his eyes.

"You make it sound as though I faithlessly abandoned it, as though it were nothing." I was furious.

"You made it seem so on our journey, as though you resented your home, yet your sister claims otherwise. Which is the truth?"

"Both." I stared at the stars. "Our world was run, was owned, was controlled by greedy people. Children in one place starved so that the people of my nation could grow fat and be comfortable. I saw the damage of greed. I often worked when I travelled, collecting records and sketching what I saw. While I lived there, I connected and tried to give what I could to the world. With a population of seven billion, one alone can only change little things. But those little things brought me close to many people. People I love and people I miss. My heart often breaks to think of them, but I could not abandon my sister, not when a chance for her to draw breath again and for me to see light in her eyes was in front of me. Even then, I did not carelessly abandon my home. There were others like me who would continue to make those small differences. It was my fate to be here, Thorin. I miss my world, but it was no longer home without my sister."

Thorin inclined his head in an apologetic manner. "I understand. I lost my brother in battle when I was young." There was a deep sorrow in his eyes.

"At Azanulbizar?" I questioned.

"Yes." He sat down beside me.

"I am sorry." I did not know what else to say.

Thorin remained silent, his face still, but his eyes full of lingering grief. We stared at each other in understanding for a long while. I placed my hand over his, in a small offering of comfort. To my surprise he did not pull away, and we watched, as the hidden valley flooded with light and the dawn came.


	9. I Became the Abyss

Chapter 9

I awoke in the grass alone, sometime later, with a pair of green eyes staring down at me.

"You missed Breakfast." Alane sat down beside me.

"So it would seem." I stared at the sky. The sun was well risen and warm. It was probably approaching ten o'clock.

"Your friends had the decency to not oversleep." She smirked at me. I huffed in response and blew my hair up dramatically. "Why were you sleeping outside?"

"Because sleep would not take me in my room."

"I wonder what the garden offers you that your room could not." The tone was almost disapproving.

"Something gold." I glanced at her and then looked up at the sun. The dawn brought the same gold hues here as it did from my world, and the sight was peaceful after the conversation that took place where I had sat the night before.

My sister stared at me not quite understanding, but the disapproving look was gone. A few moments of silence passed before my sister spoke again. "Do you miss home?"

"No." It was an honest and simple answer.

"No? What of your friends? Your travels?" The guilt that had radiated in her face the night before had returned.

"I have friends here and travels as well. You were the one with friends, as I recall."

"But what of the people you met on your travels? They were better friends… They changed you, they educated you."

"I did not say I did not miss people, but I missed them when I returned to our parent's house as well; for it was unlikely I would ever see many of the people I met again. The lessons I have learned still resonate here. If there is something I miss, it was the idea of what our world could have become, if peace was possible. But that was an only an idea that had started blossoming. I played my piece in it, and others will carry it forward. I have no regrets from that life, not even choosing to end it, as I have told you before, little sister."

"How did you end it?" It was the question she never dared to ask. She knew that in order to have joined her, my physical body in our world had to die, just as hers had in order for our new existence in flesh to be granted to us here, but asking had always terrified her. Over one hundred years in Middle Earth and she had finally asked the question I did not know how to answer.

"It was planned and more time passed then you thought had, between your death and mine. It was 2 months after I had been approached with the offer. I knew what I needed to do to accept it. Our parents had remained as absent as ever. They loved us, but did not need us, so they were easy to leave. The ledge where I stood was one I had climbed a thousand times, but I ensured I would meet a storm half way through. The snow blew violently, enough so that I could have easily slipped by accident. I never felt the impact, but instead I tumbled further into a black abyss, and I could still feel the snow and the wind biting at my flesh, burning me even as I awoke in Lorien. My skin paled from the burn, my eyes changed to the colour of the ice that took me and I swear my hair is as black as that abyss, and I know not why."

"To haunt you or perhaps me. To serve as a reminder that you gave up your life for my own." She looked at me then as though I were a ghost, and in a sense I was. My physical features held enough resemblance to my old self for her to recognize me, yet the effect of my death was visible, where hers was not. The ice, the wind, the snow and the abyss had ingrained themselves into my flesh.

"My decision should not haunt you."

"But it does and it will until the day comes that I can repay you." The sincerity behind those words was what frightened me the most.

"I will never allow that day to come. Nor will Valar. You are the one destined for something here, not myself. It matters not what happens to me."

"What happens to you matters to me. I have no wish to lose a sister. If you leave this life, I will follow, just as you followed me."

"You won't. No matter what happens to me, you swore the day I left on my first travel here that you would live out this life fully, no matter what happened to me. And I will hold you to that vow." I held her gaze, and she averted her eyes downward in some form of temporary acceptance. For now, that was enough.

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Dressed in a blue gown so pale it nearly blended with my icy skin, I walked bare foot through the hall attempting to silently consume an apple to make up for the morning's missed meal. The walls were lined with scenes of history, a history I had learned well in the libraries of Lorien and Rivendell. As I rounded a corner, I found Bilbo staring at one of the murals.

"Its Sauron the Deceiver. He sought to enslave the free peoples of Middle Earth. The Last Alliance of Men and Elves marched upon Mordor, and drew close to Mordor. Just as they could taste victory, Sauron himself marched upon the field, and killed Elendil, the High King of Gondor and Arnor, and Gil-galad, the last High King of Noldor, in their attempt to battle him. As defeat hung in the air, Isildur, son of Elendil, took up the shards of his father's sword, Narsil, and sliced Sauron's Ring of Power from his hand, causing Sauron's soul to disperse, thus bringing victory to the alliance, though at a great loss." I spoke lightly, looking down at Bilbo, whose face had paled as he stared at the mural again. "It is history now, Bilbo. Sauron was broken. I did not tell you this to frighten you"

"I am not frightened. Just sad." It was an honest answer.

"History is always sad and the happiest moments are often riddled with tragedy. Yet those happy moments are the most important."

"Why?" Bilbo stammered. "Why are they so important?"

"They remind us that there is always something bright, some small joy, that makes this world, any world worthwhile." I offered Bilbo a small smile, before chuckling slightly, in an attempt to lighten the mood, and said, "I am starting to sound like the wizard." I clapped my hand on Bilbo's back, and we walked away from the mural.


	10. It Was Only a Dream

Chapter 10

Elrond found us hours later, examining the different murals, as I explained the history of them with Bilbo. The hobbit had a keen interest in history and his attention never wavered. Elrond had to tut lightly to get our attention.

"Lord Elrond." I inclined my head, and Bilbo followed my lead in a clumsy manner.

"Lady Branwen, Master Baggins," He greeted in turn. "I was wondering, Master Baggins, if I may steal your guide? We have not had the chance to speak since her arrival."

Bilbo nodded, though seemed saddened by the interruption. "We can continue later." I said and flashed the hobbit a grin, before linking my arm through Elrond's and leaving.

"The hobbit seems quite interested in your lessons. You have the heart of a tutor." Elrond mused as we walked. I laughed lightly.

"When I was young I wanted to teach because teaching requires that you keep learning. I hated school, but I loved to learn, to read and to experience things. One should never stop learning, and not all lessons are in books."

"And what have you learned from your recent lessons outside of books?" Elrond questioned. "You have been gone from these halls a long time, Branwen, and have returned in the company of an exiled Dwarf-King."

"I have only travelled with them a little while. I told you, I met up with Gandalf and was invited to join them." It was only a small lie and it was one I would continue to sing. "Before I met with them, I smithed, farmed, and even was a serving wench at a tavern. That proved to be the most interesting. Gossip of orc scouts and raids were the most frequent topics of conversation. My times in the wild proved most of that gossip true. Travel has become difficult for some."

"A common occurrence. Raids happen. Orcs exist, even in times of peace." Elrond answered.

"Not this often. Not from what I have seen. I am sure our Ranger would tell you something similar." I looked at Elrond, my head tilted.

"Mayhaps. And did you run into our friend in the wild?" Elrond questioned. It seemed that, sometime after my departure, Elrond had revealed to his young human ward, Aragorn, his lineage and position amongst the Dunedain. The heir to Gondor finally knew he was heir, though; this was kept in secrecy amongst the elves and Dunedian.

"Mayhaps."I mimicked him slightly, "Or perhaps one learns to listen and knows when there is a new ranger." I paused and stared at my feet. "I camped with rangers and drank with some at the tavern. Our friend was one, less than a year ago. It was good to see him. He seems to have filled the role of cheiftan naturally."

"This is good to hear, though perhaps a conversation saved for a more private place and time?" Elrond motioned, and I agreed. And so we went into his study, a room filled with books, rarer than even those in the Rivendell library. He sat behind a hard wooden desk, neatly organized, allowing me the view of the valley from the study window as I sat opposite of him. I took in the view as I listened. The boy my sister and I had watched grow up seemed to have no interest in being King, despite responding to his role as a Ranger well. That would change, my sister had told Elrond and his sons. My sister was right. The ranger's time would come, and he will fulfill his role as heir.

"He has the makings of a King." I said before I took my leave.

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As I passed through the halls, whispered voices reached my ears, easily recognized as my sister and Gandalf. I hid behind a delicately carved column. In the wild, you learn to hear every sound, and their conversation was loud despite the whispers. If their topic of conversation was not me, they could have kept their secrets. They stood in front of the mural Bilbo and I met at earlier today. The figure of Sauron loomed over them. The sight of him made my sisters words more worrisome.

"Do not lie to me, Gandalf. I have a right to know where you are leading my sister." My sister seethed. "Do not tell me you met on the road. I know that is a lie. Elrond does not believe it either, though he pretends to accept it as the truth. You are leading the group to the Lonely Mountain."

"This is not the place to discuss such things, Alane." Gandalf's tone was harsh. I could feel his anger rising.

"I know you will not speak of it with me unless I give you no choice. You will give me an answer here, to silence me. A simple yes or no will suffice, even a slight incline of the head, for you are right, we do not know who could be listening." My sister answered smartly. Gandalf was not amused, but he answered her anyway. The "Yes" he grumbled nearly sent my sister to tears.

"I feared as much." She murmured. "You must not let her continue Gandalf."

"Where she goes is not your choice, Alane. She has been on many journeys and adventures. She has much to offer the dwarves, and has grown fond of the company. She will continue on this quest because it is what she wants." The old grey wizard spoke calmly as the sun set upon the valley and the hall faded into darkness. "She knows the risks of this journey, yet does not fear it. Neither should you." The wizard tried to offer her comfort.

"But I do fear it. I could not tell her but in my dreams of late I see her, pierced by many arrows in a place hardened by battle. Her breathing is shallow, and her body is broken." My sister's voice seemed caught in her throat.

"Your dreams? Have your dreams come true before?" The old man asked ponderously.

"No." With that one word, I nearly let out a loud sigh. My sister had her secrets and I had mine. I was glad to hear her prophetic dreams of my death were not one of them.

I made my move to sneak away as Gandalf assured her that she should not waste herself on worry. But I stopped as my sister spoke again. "She is immortal Gandalf, not invincible. She used to say 'Everyone dies' and has welcomed death before, but that was at the promise of another life. She will not come home this time. She will not wake up whole and new."

Then Alane left, and the wizard remained. "It does not do you well to spy on a wizard, Branwen. What did you hear?"

"Something about my imminent demise." I said half-heartedly, though my sister's words loomed darkly over me.

"And what did you think of her dream?" Gandalf stared into my eyes.

"That it was a dream. She always seems to have these dreams when she knows I am leaving." I answered. That was true, she often reminded me of the risks of adventuring right before I left, and spoke of my death. "I do not intend on remaining here. I knew the risk before I left. There is always a risk and I have never been as far east as we are going, nor seen a dragon and its hoard. I do not intend to pass it up now." I shot the wizard an easy grin, that seemed to comfort him, and we parted. But no one was left to comfort me. It was only a dream, I heard myself say, as I wandered through the hall. It was only a dream. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'It was only a dream.' I told myself again as I sat with dwarves as they played music, something they seemed to have taken too nightly. Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin were nowhere to be seen, probably having their own council. I barely heard the music. My sister had troubled my mind as she always was like to do.

"Is something troubling you, lass?" To my surprise, I found it to be Gloin who asked, though Bofur seemed to share his concern.

"No." I stared straight at him as I answered.

"As you say. But a father knows when something is amiss, and something has upset you, my lady." Gloin looked at me, and I thought of his wife and son. He knew the risk of this quest too, yet he was here. How much did his wife worry? Did she have dreams like my sister?

"My sister worries for me and my safety, and she seems sullen. It has rubbed off on me, it would seem." I admitted. No need to tell them of the dream. It was only a dream. 

"Kin often worry when someone dear to them runs off. Love causes them to fear loss." Gloin said, and it was oddly comforting.

Bofur nodded. "I know what would cheer m'lady up." He exclaimed, dragging me to my feet. "Lads, pick a tune!"

"Oh, Bofur… no…" I meant to protest but I stopped myself. It had been a long time since I had danced. "Hahaha… Do not be mad if I step on your feet." I finished with instead, grinning, and allowed Bofur to guide me through the fast tune.

I danced with each of the dwarves and the hobbit in turn, even Balin and Dwalin, when they returned, though Thorin was not with them. I was disappointed but I doubted the King danced much anyway. By the end of the night, I was too tired to bother returning to my room, but fell asleep with the company on the floor, all the fear of my sister's dream gone. 'These are my friends', I thought, and 'it was only a dream'.


	11. Old Dreams, Old Books

Chapter 11

There was white and grey snow blowing along jagged rock. Then, there was sudden black and a burning so brutal it could have only been caused by the cold. Air rushed upward and there was a pain sharper than the cruel burn as my skin was pierced and for the first time, the cold did nothing to numb the pain. 

My eyes blinked open, troubled. The sun was barely peeking into the valley from the east, dawn had barely arrived. My dress clung heavily to my body, due to the cold sweat that came with my dream. It was an old dream, a reoccurring one with little effect; just the memory of the fall that brought me here. But the pain at the end, it was a new sensation. There was no pain the day I had jumped, just biting cold and darkness; and often the dream was just that jump, repeating in my subconscious. The sudden change worried me, and as I snuck away from the dwarves, who were still sleeping, I replayed the dream in my head over and over, trying to find a clue.

In my chambers, as I slipped into the bath, I resolved that it was only a dream, brought on by my sister's guilt and worry. The mantra from the night before repeated in my head. It was only a dream. With that, I fully submerged myself into the water, and stared up at the surface as the sun rays hit the clear liquid. I soon resurfaced and stayed in the bath, until the layer of sweat from the night terror was gone.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sat deep within the garden, pipe in one hand and a rather old looking book on my lap. The spine of the book was cracked and the pages were barely held in place. My old journal was ill-kept and ill-used from the day I had gotten it. I flipped through the old pages, reflecting on the memories that came with it. Old photos, sketches, and writing littered the pages in a barely organized fashion. I was brought back into a state of relaxation as I sat hidden beneath a large oak, the June sun in full heat, dancing on my skin through the gaps in the leaves, my sister's worries forgotten.

A slight tut brought me out of my trance, and left me slightly perturbed. I looked up, and there stood an angry Thorin.

"Your sister came and spoke to me." Thorin glared down at me.

"Did she? She is known to do that. I hear speaking is a way for people to communicate with one another." I reply sarcastically, annoyed.

"She knew of our quest…Did you tell her of it?" He questioned, not verbally responding to my tone, but his voice had grown more dangerous.

"No, she figured that out on her own… she made that perfectly clear in her discussion with the wizard last night that I just happened to overhear. She is not foolish. She knows who you are, and she knows what I am like. I prefer being alone when I travel, unless the company promises adventure. It would not take much for her to link everything together." I stated, with an annoyed tilt of my head. "And I am almost certain that Elrond hasn't questioned further only due to the small size of our group. Tell me, Oakenshield, do you enjoy accusing me of betrayal? It would do you well to remember I am your ally."

"I only asked as I assumed you would tell your kin the truth, and wondered who she would tell in turn." He hissed, though there was a hint of regret present in his eyes.

"I did not lie to her, I withheld information. She would have only worried and now she is worried. Did she say anything else to you?" I looked up at Thorin.

"Yes." Thorin admitted.

"She told you that she is worried that I shall die?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I did not know of the quest she spoke of… and that I have no say in where you travel." He answered honestly.

"She knows you are lying, but will not say anything to anyone other than me or Gandalf, if that eases your mind, Oakenshield." I explained.

"It does." He said gruffly.

"Good. Perhaps then, you shall leave me in peace now." I suggested, with a hint of annoyance. With a gleam of anger still in his eye, the Dwarf-king turned to leave, but he caught a glimpse of the sketches in my journal, and his face softened. He peered closer.

"Those are quite good." He said quietly, his mood quite different from the one seconds before.

"Thank you. I was considering showing them to Ori later. He seems to have a journal of his own." I stated, confused by the change in tone.

"May I see it as well?" I nodded before handing him the journal. He studied the drawings and read through my own documentations and notes on my travels. He paused in curiosity at the photos.

"They are our way of taking portraits, smaller but very detailed. It involves a complex amount of technology that does not exist in this world." I tried to explain simply. "It's called photography. I also used this method to document some of my travels."

"I see." He seemed to want to ask more questions but thought better of it, which was a relief, as I did not want to try to explain technology that could not possibly exist here. "So is this a portrait of your family?" He pointed to a photo of my family. "I can see the resemblance and that is clearly your sister, but you are not in it."

"Actually, I am." I point to the blonde girl who he took for my sister, who was actually next to me in the photograph, just younger looking. "That was me at 18, when my sister and I looked alike. We could have been twins, but coming here changed me."

"How could coming here have changed you so?" He stared at me.

"I became the winter. The cold and the darkness that came with my death changed me. I do not know why it happened. My hair became black as night, my skin pale, my eyes the colour of ice; a constant reminder of my own choice to stage my death as an accident on a cliff in a storm." I stated simply. It was something I had accepted.

"And what of your parents? What happened to them?" Thorin interrogated, a slight anger in his voice as he pointed at them, "Did you think of them before you died? What it would have been like to lose both children?"

"I will not deny that in one way, my parents loved me and my sister, but we were not what they had wanted in their lives, and there was a deep coldness between us and them. My sister and I loved them, but in our family there was little attachment. I grew up alone, and Alane grew up with me until she was fourteen. Then, I left for school and to live my own life. One that I hoped she would be a part of when she was older. But she was and is very different from me, even here."

"My siblings were different from me also. Dis was strong headed…"

"Ha, she does not sound so different from you!" I cut him off.

He shot me a glare before continuing. "But, more open then I. Frerin was light of heart, even in the darkest of moments. He never took anything seriously…" He paused for a moment, in sadness. "I wish I could have been more like him." He admitted finally, his eyes clouded with memories of the past.

"You were raised to be heir. Even if you had been like him when you were young, the weight of the world would have crushed it out of you. You were taught to believe that you could not afford to be anything but serious."

"And what of you? You said your family was well to do… so what drove you and your sister to be different? " There was a dark tone to his voice.

"Where I travelled and what I saw drove a spike between me and my sister. My world was a place of war and distrust. My sister chose to ignore it and I chose to see it. I went to places far different from where I had lived; and in the poverty and destruction that I saw, I also found hope. I met different people; I explored different kinds of wilderness, and survived in forests and jungles, on seas and through deserts. I saw history and I saw the effect of history." I proceeded to show him the photographs from my travels and to explain them. "How could I have been the same as my sister, after seeing all of that? She chose to ignore what lay outside her door, whereas I chose to see it. It changed how I saw and how I lived, and before my time ended there, I hope I changed it a little for the better."

"You seem to have travelled far… for being so young at the time." Thorin stated carefully.

"I have actually seen little. Where I have gone counts for only a small percent of my world. I could have lived a thousand years there and still never had seen everything. I have lived here for a long time and have never been East, and have never seen The Greenwood and I have never even seen a Dwarven Hall... "

"You will see one. Erabor was one of the most prosperous, with gold rivers flowing through the mountain. My people lived well, and happily…" Thorin trailed off.

"And they live happily now. Balin said you ensured that." I spoke, and reached out to touch him in comfort, before thinking better of it. "A lesser King would have thought of himself before his people, instead you provided for your people and labored in villages of men. You have done well by your people."

"It is not enough…" Thorin responded, turning his gaze away from me.

"No, and it never will be for you. This is your destiny, your fate. And now, for better or worse, my fate is mingled with yours."

"Does that worry you?" He looked deep into me as he asked, searching for the truth with those intense blue eyes.

"Mayhaps," I answered, staring back at him, "But I would not have it any other way."


	12. Do You Dream the Dreams That I Do?

Chapter 12

The late afternoon brought a continuation of history lessons with Bilbo. The hobbit was highly inquisitive, particularly when it came to maps, which I referenced often during our lessons due to the hobbit's demand, and we frequently went back and forth between the libraries and the murals. As a result, we only made our way through a handful of murals before we were summoned for dinner.

"It seems as though we have been interrupted once again, Master Baggins." I remarked, "And once again, I will say until next time."

"If there is a next time… the crescent moon is approaching" Bilbo trailed off.

"Yes, though we still have a few more days and if not, then on the return journey, we shall rest here again, and continue."

"If there is a return journey…" Bilbo trailed off.

"There will be, Bilbo." I said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"How much did you know of Erebor before this journey?" Bilbo asked.

"About as much as Thorin told us. Thror was King under the mountain, whose relation extends from the dwarves of the Iron Hills. Erebor's wealth and the skills of the Dwarves who dwelt there left the Mountain prosperous. The wealth accumulated, and that's what drew Smaug. Dragons covet gold. Much else, I do not know. Dwarves are secretive, and there is little to be found on their history, even in Elrond's library. The feud between elves and dwarves is ancient and deep, and seems to continuously grow."

"Who is to blame for the feud?" Bilbo asked.

"Both sides are to blame, however it is not a story to be told in these halls, surrounded by elves who are hosting a company of dwarves. It will only cause trouble and separate the races further." I explained in a hushed tone, silencing Bilbo on that subject.

"And what of the dragon? Thorin said Smaug has not been seen in sixty years. Is he dead or did he flee?" Bilbo wondered, bombarding me with a new topic of inquiry. His face was hopeful and wanting, praying that I would tell him the dragon would be no trouble to us… but particularly to him, as the burglar.

"The answer I have is not one you would wish me to give." I replied, watching the hobbit's face fall. "Dragons do not abandon their hoards, and are known to guard it for their lifetime, which extends for hundreds of years."

Bilbo was silent for a moment. "What else do you know of dragons? Do you know how to kill one?"

"I only know what I have read, in both my world and in this one. Dragons are immune to fire, that much is obvious. Their scales are like an impenetrable armor, though the scales of the underside are often weaker than those on the rest of the body. They are intelligent, strong, and greedy. Others are known to be wise. Smaug belongs in the first category."

"Wise?" Bilbo questioned.

"Yes, the old stories in my world portray the dragon as both evil and good. There is an ancient magic in dragons, or so the myths told. There were no dragons in my world. It was sad really."

"Sad?" Bilbo looked at me questionably.

"There was no dragons, no magic. Just stories."

"That sounds safe, not sad." Bilbo commented with a grim expression.

"It is sad when you grow up with stories of things that do not exist." I stated.

"And in some of these stories, the dragons were not evil?"

"As I have said before, no species is evil. They are drawn towards evil. Greed and power can corrupt many." I said. "So no, in some of the stories the dragons were good, wise and helpful. In some, they just existed, like many creatures do. They were neutral. However, in many more stories, people rode them, and in those stories, many great and terrible things happened."

"What would happen if Smaug fell under the control of something more evil than himself?" Bilbo stared at me.

"Only terrible things." I spoke solemnly and leaned against the door frame of my room.

"I am afraid." Bilbo whispered.

"It would be foolish not to be." I looked down at the hobbit. "But you can never be brave if you are not afraid." I cast the hobbit a reassuring smile, and added lightly, "Go get yourself ready, you are going to make us late for dinner.

I watched Bilbo go down the hall way before entering my room, and changed into a new dress before dinner.

The stars shone brightly as I smoked my pipe on my balcony. The dwarves were all asleep, and the hobbit as well. Food seemed to have a calming effect on Bilbo and after dinner, the weight of our conversation only remained in the back of his mind. I was worried. My thoughts had grown darker upon entering the valley, though I always tended to think along the more melancholic lines. It was just the way I thought, though it was now getting tiresome. I turned my thoughts back to the stars. The amount of cloudless nights I had seen in Rivendell made the stars no less spectacular. They were brighter here than on Earth. Everything was more colourful, more vibrant and rich. There was beauty everywhere, even the large cities of men. My thoughts soon drifted to what a Dwarven hall would be like, deep within the mountain, with all the architecture carved in stone. It could only be beautiful.

The rustling down below took me from my thoughts. So, I was not the only one unable to sleep, it would seem, as I looked into the small garden beneath my room. The figure that caused all the noise now leaned against a tree. I stared at him for a moment, before returning to my room and grabbing some extra pipe weed. Then, barefooted and still in my dinner dress, I did a light-footed jump from my balcony to the ground. The dull thud, however, was still loud enough to disturb the late night wanderer, and he turned to face me.

"I wonder, what troubles a dwarf-king so greatly, he cannot sleep in a place where we are supposed to be resting and regaining our strength?" My voice marked with sarcasm to hide my concern.

"What troubles you so greatly that you cannot sleep in the place you and your sister have lived in for years?" Thorin shot back, his eyes darkening, clearly in a worse mood than he had been earlier that day, under the tree.

"I am worried that my sister is worried about me. I am also worried that the leader our company never seems to sleep…"

Thorin's face softened, but the hard look still remained. "You should not worry about me; my troubles are no concern of yours."

"Perhaps not, but if you wish, I would like to hear them anyway."

"They are not troubles you would understand." Thorin emphasized.

"You mean the worry that comes with leading. No, I cannot. But I understand how you are thinking. There is worry behind every one of your decisions, each risk is calculated and you worry about the loss if you were to make the wrong decision."

"Why ask what ails me if you already seem to know?" Thorin hissed.

"Because it often feels better to talk about it, so I thought I would give you the opportunity, and I know there is more that worries you than the few things I have mentioned." I stated simply.

"I will not place my burdens and thoughts on you or any other member of the company." He stated with finality.

"So be it. We will talk about something else. Do you have your pipe handy?" I chirped with ease, and sat myself on the grass. Thorin stared at me and cocked an eyebrow at my change of topic, demeanor and at the question itself. "I have some pipe weed from the shire. Nicked it off of the wizard." I tossed him the bag.

"And he did not notice?" Thorin seemed impressed.

"As much as I would like to believe that he did not, I am positive he knew from the moment I was intending on doing it."

"And he just let you take it? That seems unlikely." Thorin mused.

"No doubt he knew I would go looking for more once my own ran out. It was good thinking on his part. He was clearly thinking ahead, and knows me far too well. I acquired my taste for smoking from spending too much time with him." I shrugged my shoulders and Thorin laughed. It was a sound that was rare, even before this adventure started, perhaps even before Erebor was taken. It did not take much imagination to see the strict upbringing Thorin would have had, being heir. That burden would have been heavy even when his people were prosperous. "Tell me about your home. About how you remember it." I said suddenly.

"You know the story." Thorin huffed, his mood dampening again.

"Yes, but I want to hear the good things, what you loved about your home."

Thorin thought for a moment. "When Fili and Kili were young, I used to tell them about it. Gold flowed through the mountain, like a river, and we mined into deep and dark places. Our riches allowed us to make grand things; in particular, the toy market in Dale brought forth many wonders. And we taught many human apprentices as well, in exchange for food, which we could not grow ourselves, though we did not teach them all our secrets. The markets flourished, and there was prosperity for all.

"Erebor itself was beautiful and the entrance was marked with two large, intricately carved dwarves. Inside, we had dug deep, allowing one to see into the heart of the mountain. The halls were vaulted and detailed, drawn out of the mountain itself. Sometimes I still dream I am wandering through those halls." He turned to me suddenly then, "Do you still dream of your home?" His eyes were intense.

"Not in the same way you do." He seemed disappointed in my answer. "Instead I dream of finding a home again."

"Then perhaps you do dream the dreams I do." He stared me down, his eyes holding a look of more than empathy, though of what else I did not know, for it was gone in another puff of smoke, and once again, he and I watched the sun rise over the Valley.


	13. The Exit At Dawn

Chapter 13

Two weeks had nearly come and gone within the valley and Bilbo and I had not even made it through half of the mural, even with the aid of Alane, who had joined the Hobbit and I in our last few lessons, and had grown close to Bilbo, as they poured over maps and histories together. After the lessons, she and I would talk, idly like sisters do. She seemed to have followed Gandalf's warning and made no mention of her dream to me, though I knew what she saw. It was in the evening of the night of the crescent moon that she went against the wizard's advice, as we sat on the balcony of my room.

"Branwen, tonight you, Thorin Oakenshield, Gandalf, Bilbo, and Balin are meeting with Elrond, though for what I do not know. I assume this will mean you will be leaving shortly after." She began, "I know what you will say, Branwen, but I beg you, listen to me: do not leave with the dwarves. I have seen things and this path will lead you to your death. I dreamt…"

"I know what you dreamt." I finished for her, locking my eyes to hers as the green orbs held an expression torn between pride and fear. "I was there, hiding when you told Gandalf of this."

"Then you know the risk and know that you cannot go." Alane stated firmly.

"I know the risk and I will go anyway. Every adventure has risks and what you saw, it was only a dream, Alane, like Gandalf said." I assured her, though I questioned it myself.

"It was more than that. It was not like the others, it felt real." Alane stared at me, intensely.

"It is a shadow of fear, Alane. That is all."

"I pray that you are right." She dipped her head down, allowing her blond hair to fall across her face. "You know, sometimes I do not understand why they choose me. In all our time here, you seem to be the one who goes off adventuring. I have no desire or interest too, and yet I was brought here for a reason."

"Most of Middle Earth rests in peace, and the majority of my own adventures have taken place in this time, but this world is changing, I have seen it. Your time for adventure will come sooner then you expect and I highly doubt you will like the taste of it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Alane questioned with apprehension.

"If you were brought here for a reason, it means this peace is ending. Something is about to happen, something even the wisest cannot see, and that is why you are here. Your own dangers will come soon enough. Do not pray for them to come sooner. Perhaps, it is your own destiny you should worry about, little sister." I warned.

"My fate is not the one that has immediate concern." She shot back quietly.

"No, but in time, it will be. When that day comes, will you listen to my warnings or do what you believe to be right?" I asked her. I was answered in silence. "You see, we are more alike than you think. Alane, I agreed to aid Thorin Oakenshield because it was the right thing to do. Do not think I did not see the signs. It was no coincidence that Gandalf's letter found me on what was supposed to be my return journey to Rivendell. I know my fate is intertwined with this quest, but it was my decision to join and my decision to remain bound to this journey, warnings or no."

"Then I can do nothing but hope it was just a dream." Alane said, her slender hands grasping together a little tighter.

"Aye, little sister." I replied, and then quickly retrieved my small journal from my room. "Alane, I do not know if I will get a chance to say a proper goodbye after tonight, for I do not know when Thorin plans to leave, so I wish to give you this now." I pressed the journal into her hands. "Upon my return, I will fill in the story of this journey as I recount it to you. Keep it safe."

"I love you, Branwen." She whispered as she hugged me tightly.

"I love you, too." I returned her hug. "Goodbye, little sister."

With that, I left for the meeting with Elrond.

I stood behind Elrond in an open room behind one of the many waterfalls in Rivendell. The map was placed on a crystal jagged pedestal. The crescent moon now shone down perfectly upon it, revealing the ancient dwarven runes.

"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks," Elrond began, "and with the setting sun of the last light of Durin's day will shine upon the keyhole."

"Durin's day?" Bilbo questioned.

"It is the start of the dwarves' New Year." Gandalf answered with a quick turn of his head. "When the last sun of summer and the first moon of winter appear in the sky together, that is when the keyhole will appear."

"This is ill news." Thorin exclaimed. "Summer is passing and Durin's day will soon be upon us."

"We still have time." Balin said hastily.

"Time?" Bilbo asked, "Time for what?"

Balin raised his hand to Bilbo to silence him, "To find the entrance. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot, at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."

For ones who had placed such importance on secrecy, Balin and Thorin had just quickly revealed the true purpose of the quest without much thought. Leaving Rivendell had become riddled with difficulty.

"So this is your purpose?" Elrond stated more than asked, "To enter the mountain?"

"What of it?" Thorin was now defensive, realizing his and Balin's error.

"Some would not deem it wise." Elrond said as he handed the map back to Thorin, who hurriedly snatched it away.

"Who do you mean?" Gandalf inquired.

"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth." Elrond looked at Gandalf with a stern expression, before turning and exiting, motioning for Gandalf to follow.

Before doing so, Gandalf pulled me aside. "You must tell Thorin to leave Rivendell tonight. If the company waits until morning, Elrond will find a reason to delay your departure. You must leave without me, Branwen. Is that clear? Wait for me in the mountains."

I gave a quick nod in response before I took off behind the dwarves, while Gandalf followed Elrond.

I could feel her presence in my mind, as though a white fog was settling. Galadriel was here, the Lady of Lothlorien, the Lady of mine and my sister's first home in Middle Earth. Though I would have much desired to speak with her, even if only through my mind; I could not do so without revealing our intention to leave. Thankfully, her meeting with Gandalf kept her distracted. The White Council must have been here to discuss this quest or how to stop it. This meant Saruman was in Rivendell as well, which was all the more reason to leave in haste.

I saw Thorin turn to enter his room, and called out "Thorin!" before jogging up to him. In a hushed and urgent voice, I whispered, "Gandalf left me with this warning: We must take the company and leave now. The elves will try to delay us if we wait until morning."

"Did I not say they would?" Thorin growled angrily.

"You did, but you also got the answer you needed. There is no need for resentment while we can still sneak away. What we do need is haste, go and awaken your men. We must leave silently within the hour. I will guide you out of the house, quietly." And with that we separated, to gather what we needed.

As we made our ascent from the Valley, I allowed the dwarves to move ahead of me, as I chanced one last look upon it. I could hear Thorin giving orders ahead of me. Bilbo paused as well and we both stared in a mutual silence as the sun began to rise. The view from here was incredible, and the sunrise was more beautiful than any I had seen in the Valley in my entire time there. It was also one that filled me with a deep sorrow, though I did not know why.

So you are leaving with them. Galadriel's voice rang through my head.

Yes.

Then you have made the right decision and I shall make no move to hinder this quest, but know this, your fate is mingled in this quest and in the fate of Middle Earth. The outcome of this is unknown to me. Be wary, child, for this quest will begin events I cannot yet understand. Galadriel's voice hummed in my mind, now full of warning.

I sense it too, My Lady. Darkness is growing, but there is still hope if one does what they know is good and just.

You burn with hope. This quest is yours, young Winterfire, just as much as it is the dwarves. I hope we meet again, young one. And as if a veil was lifted, Galadriel slipped from my thoughts.

I let out a breath, placed my hand on Bilbo's shoulder, and absorbed as much of Rivendell into my memory during this final moment as I could, only to be interrupted by Thorin, "Master Baggins, Lady Branwen, I suggest you both keep up." With that, me and Bilbo turned and the company ascended into the wild.


	14. Through the Trap Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this one is "Touch the Sky" By Julie Fowlis from the "Brave" sound track. I don't own it.

Chapter 14

Balin led the way, as we ventured up and through the Misty Mountains. The path had been pre-determined by Gandalf, and was decided upon long before we had left Rivendell. Apparently the Orcs had not moved into these parts of the mountains yet, so this path offered us the safest mode of travel, even if the road itself was perilous. In the many days we had traveled it since leaving Rivendell, the path had proven safe enough and free of any orcs and goblins.

Our road was uneven and steep, and despite the fact that midsummer had only just past, snow remained at this altitude, though not much. It brought me a small sense of comfort and revitalization. I had always enjoyed the winter. The rest of the group seemed weary, particularly Bilbo, from our ascension, yet the snow and the altitude was more than welcoming for me. We had come to an early rest on our sixth day out from Rivendell and our campsite offered a spectacular view, though the others seemed too tired to notice. I stared out across the peaks of the mountains as clouds swept between them, eyeing an approaching fog that would soon mist over our camp. The sky was a brilliant blue and could be seen between the clouds; and below, within the valleys of the mountains, great pines could be seen, though their size seemed diminished by their surrounding landscape. The air was thin and slid easily into my lungs, as I began to whisper a song to myself while looking over the heights:

When cold winds are calling,  
And the sky is clear and bright,  
Misty mountains sing and beckon,  
Lead me out into the light.

I will ride, I will fly,  
Chase the wind and touch the sky,  
I will fly,  
Chase the wind and touch the sky.

Where dark woods hide secrets,  
And mountains are fierce and bold,  
Deep waters hold reflections,  
Of times lost long ago.

I will hear their every story,  
Take hold of my own dream,  
Be as strong as the seas are stormy,  
And proud as an eagle's scream.

I will ride, I will fly,  
Chase the wind and touch the sky,  
I will fly,  
Chase the wind and touch the sky.

And touch the sky.

Chase the wind, chase the wind.

Touch the sky.

"That was quite different than your last song, lass." Bofur said behind me, making me jump in surprise. Bilbo was not far behind him, carrying two bowls of stew in his hand. He passed one to me, as I answered Bofur.

"Yes, I am in a different mood than I was the last time I sang." I replied, simply sitting down and allowing the other two to follow my lead.

"In a different mood?" Bilbo questioned.

"Aye, I was angry when I chose the last song, but I sing this one out of peace and excitement."

"It was a beautiful song." Bilbo said.

"Yes it was, but what peace and excitement have you found?" Thorin's voice interrupted as he approached us from around the side of a rock.

"I have found excitement in this climb and knowing we will climb further. I find peace being on a mountain again. I find peace in this view, in the taste of the air, in the sound of the wind as we are grazed by the clouds. And, I find peace in my friend's voices, no matter how weary they sound, for the simple fact that I can hear them. In this moment, I am content." I offered him a small look of sincerity and he gave a small smile in return before his face went rigid again.

"You have climbed mountains before?" Bilbo pondered.

"Yes, many times." I smiled. "I have found great comfort in it, as I have found in exploring many parts of the wild." I pulled out my pipe, and Bofur and Bilbo followed suit. Thorin remained standing, looking resolute while the rest of us took in the view and stared into the east.

The rain pelted down as the company gripped the side of the mountain. The narrow path was dangerous in the storm, yet there was little choice but to push forward. Slowly, we did just that until a boulder was launched against the mountainside above us, causing us to take what cover we could against the mountain's face as shattered rock poured from above.

"This is no thunder storm! It's a thunder battle!" Balin bellowed over the down pour of rain and rock. "Look." He pointed as the rock began to move, taking on the shape of two figures fighting. Terror struck me. Never in my life had I seen anything like this.

"Well bless me! The legends are true! Giants! Stone Giants!" Bofur shouted as he peered over to the battle.

"Take cover, you fool!" Thorin cried out in anger and desperation. Bofur was now at risk of falling.

The ground started to give way below as the mountain we were on began to move. The dwarves began to shout.

"Fili, grab my hand!" Kili shouted too late, as half the dwarves were now separated from us, each group on a different leg of the giant.

As the giant moved, I clung myself to the wall with one hand and tried to hold Bilbo in place with the other as he scrambled to get a hold of the wall. We moved quickly and were soon on a collision course against another piece of mountain. I could hear the rest of the company shouting and braced myself. As the mountain grew closer, I could see a small ledge, our only chance at survival.

"Jump!" I commanded, and the dwarves listened quickly, but Bilbo hesitated as I pulled him with me, his weight caused me to miss the ledge. I desperately clung to the mountain face, my sword hand slicing open on rock as the other held Bilbo. I was too out of breath to shout as I heard the dwarves rejoice over their survival. I cannot fall again, I thought to myself as I held on.

"Where's Bilbo, where is the hobbit? Where is Branwen?" I heard Bofur yell. Beneath me Bilbo let out the yell I could not, and alerted the dwarves to our situation.

I watched as Thorin swung over the ledge, and took Bilbo's other hand, soon relieving me of his weight. He passed Bilbo up to the dwarves and then lost his own balance. I reached out and caught him. His weight nearly jerked me from the wall and an excruciating pain tore through my shoulder. Dwalin climbed down and pulled Thorin up, and then both he and Thorin helped me onto the ledge. I sat, panting.

"I thought we had almost lost you and our burglar." Dwalin spoke, relief evident on his face.

"Our burglar has been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us." Thorin thundered, before turning away and looking into a small cave ahead. "Dwalin!" He called and the two scouted it out before declaring it to be our shelter for the night.

The other dwarves moved forward, but I waited for the hobbit, who remained behind, looking defeated.

"His words were spoken in fear and anger, Bilbo. Do not take them to heart." I said, and attempted to rouse him to his feet.

"No, he is right, I mean, you nearly died because of me. Because of my hesitation." He responded, guilt written in his eyes.

"But I did not die and neither did you. Do not dwell on this Bilbo, nor on Thorin's words. In his own way, he was scared for our lives." I then hauled him up with my good arm and led the way to our shelter for the night, just in time for Thorin to further dampen our spirits by stating that there would be no fires and we would leave at first light. The last bit troubled me and Balin as well.

"The plan was that we would wait for Gandalf in the mountains." Balin exclaimed, looking at Thorin with pleading eyes.

"Plans change." Thorin said angrily, and made his way towards me.

"You were injured." The dwarf king stated instead of questioned.

"Minimally, nothing that will not repair itself in time. In fact, I am more worried than injured." I stated as Thorin raised a brow. "We were supposed to wait for Gandalf…"

"We cannot afford to wait." Thorin attempted to silence me.

"Nor can we afford to lose our way." I shot back.

Thorin studied me. "We move at first light." He dictated with finality, before attempting to leave in anger. In haste I grabbed him with my bad arm, which caused my shoulder to jerk violently and I stifled a grunt of pain.

"Did you mean what you said to Bilbo?" There was anger in my voice as I asked him. He stared back at me with a furrowed brow, the events of today still weighing heavily upon him.

"Yes." His voice told me, but his eyes gave me a different answer as he walked away. "Get some rest, all of you." He barked. "Bofur, you take first watch."

I lay with my eyes open, staring at the cave's ceiling, as I listen to Bilbo and Bofur, wondering if I should interrupt. Bilbo planned to return to Rivendell, while Bofur attempted to convince him to stay, but Thorin's words had eaten away at Bilbo. No matter what Bofur said, Bilbo was convinced that he did not belong here.

"You're homesick, I understand." Bofur pleaded.

"No, you don't, you don't understand." Bilbo countered. His answer paralyzing me as I listened. "None of you do. You're dwarves! You're used to this life. Living on the road, never settling in one place. Not belonging anywhere!" Bilbo almost shouted, and I could imagine the look on Bofur's face. A deep sadness came over me.

"I am sorry." Bilbo said, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean that." There was shame in his voice, and I was glad there was.

"No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere." Bofur murmured and I felt an ache in my heart. "I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do." Bofur finished, and I could hear Bilbo begin to walk away. I quietly rose, in a hope to stop him. I saw Bilbo as he began to make his way to the entrance of the cave, but I also saw something curious, as did Bofur.

"What is that?" Bofur asked and Bilbo pulled his sword from its sheath. It shone a bright blue.

"Shit!" I shouted for lack of a better word as the floor began to crack beneath me.

"Everybody awake!" Was the last thing I heard Thorin shout before the floor gave way and we all fell into darkness.


	15. The Wizard's Return

Chapter 15

My back slammed into the floor with a hard thud, knocking the breath from my lungs in a painful manner. Before I could sputter for a breath, Thorin crashed down on top of me. The weight of him was crushing but familiar, bringing back the memory of our fight in the woods and the bruising that followed. I was sure the bruising from this incident would be eerily similar and in that moment, I was thankful it was not Bombur who had landed on me. Thorin sent me an apologetic look as he helped me rise. That is when I saw them, hundreds of hideous goblins hurdling towards us. My lack of breath prevented me from giving a shout of warning but Thorin must have noticed the horror on my face, for he turned quickly and shouted to the rest of the group just as the goblins were upon us.

To my surprise, instead of attacking, the goblins began to herd us down the bridge that was connected to the cage we had landed in, with me following behind Thorin. They led us across rickety planks for what seemed like hours and at a heavy pace, adding to the weariness of my injured body. The ominous cave was lit by torches, and in a moment of looking down, I could see that the cave ran deep into places the light would not reach, as caves often do in the Misty Mountains, thus explaining the amount of goblins. The deep caves offered them protection from the sun, and as time passed they had moved further into the mountain range. Gandalf had promised us that this path was safe, that goblins and orcs had not reached this path, but these goblins seemed to be long established here and I highly doubted there were any safe paths across the Misty Mountains any longer. If we had the luxury of time, we could have taken a safer path across the Gap of Rohan and around the range. Our own haste would be our demise.

We now stood on a platform before a throne. Upon it sat a vile, giant goblin. The skin on his chin sagged and I could smell the decaying flesh on him from where I was standing as the rest of the group poured in around me. The stench was enough to make me retch, but my empty stomach had me dry heaving. We were stripped of our weapons and I felt a small pang as the slimy hands of the goblins tore my sword away from me, and then continued to prod for more weapons. They missed the small knife I kept in my boot. I silently praised my own small amount of good fortune as the giant goblin rose from his throne, trampling the minions who made up his foot stool in his wake.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" he stared us down as he questioned, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. The vile stench grew worse as he leaned in. "Spies? Theives? Assassins?" He continued to screech.

"Dwarves, your menevolence." One of the minions in front of our company answered.

"Dwarves?" the Great Goblin, as he was called, questioned as though we were not standing right in front of him. Goblins seemed to be two things, cruel and daft.

"Found them on the front porch." The minion stated in a matter of fact tone.

"Well, don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack, every crevice!", The Great Goblin demanded and once again the goblins' hands groped our bodies. Again, they missed my knife.

"What are you doing in these parts? Speak!" The goblin interrogated. Not one of us gave him an answer. "Very well. If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler, bring up the bone breaker! Start with the youngest!" He pointed at poor Ori. The Great Goblin's eyes landed upon me then. "No, start with the female." And my small stroke of good luck was at its end, it seemed.

"Wait!" Thorin shouted.

"Well, look who it is." The Great Goblin mused as Thorin stepped forward. "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain." He dipped into a mocking bow and a deep-seated anger welled up inside of me and grew as he continued. "Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain and you're not a king, which makes you nobody, really." That statement struck Thorin hard. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head… nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours, a pale orc astride a white warg." A devious smile stretched even further across the Goblin King's face.

"Azog the defiler was destroyed in battle long ago." Thorin declared, but I could hear the touch of fear and uncertainty in his voice.

"So you think his defiling days are done? Do you?" The goblin pondered in amusement and let out a breathy chortle. "Send word to the pale orc. Tell him I have found his prize. While we are waiting, why don't we have a little fun? Fetch the machines!"

Many minions scattered off to fetch the torture equipment. Ori shook beside me. I gripped his arm in hopes of comforting him, and said in a moment of dark humor, "Don't worry, its ladies first now." I kept my own fear self-contained, "I suppose torture holds nothing on dying." Thorin looked back at me, then to the rest of the group, which he now stood in front of protectively. There was guilt on his face; as though it was his fault he could not protect us. His gaze lingered on his nephews. The pain and guilt was unbearable to look at, and I was thankful when Thorin turned back towards the Goblin King, who had broken out into a joyous song about torture.

To my right, one of the minions hissed. It held Thorin's sword for a moment longer before dropping it in a hiss. The Great Goblin shrank back to his throne. "I know that sword. It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter, the Blade that Sliced a Thousand Necks. Slash them! Beat Them! Kill them!" The Great Goblin cried.

The whip that slashed my back sent me spiraling forward. Another slash cut across my cheek, and I could feel the blood dripping. I slipped the knife from my boot just as a Goblin toppled on top of me, and a drove the blade deep into his gut. I pushed his disgusting corpse off of me and delivered the same blow to another, and as the life drained from his eyes I was hit by a white blast. A smile came across my face as I tumbled forward.

The smile remained in place, despite my dizziness, for as I turned, I knew hope had arrived. "Mithrandir" I murmured, for I knew his Elvish name would cause more fear amongst the goblins.

"Take up arms!" Gandalf ordered thunderously. "Fight! Fight!" And fight we did.

I sprung up quickly. Adrenaline was an excellent pain killer. I slit the throat of another goblin on my way to our weapons. I threw Thorin his sword as Gandalf slew three goblins in an instant.

"He wields the Foe Hammer! The Beater! Bright as daylight!" The Goblin King shouted. With that, he charged at Thorin. I could hear his nephews shout in warning as I fought. Thorin turned around quickly enough and parried the Goblin King's attack, his blade sending the beast backwards and off the edge. We then made a rapid exit.

The goblins followed us in a great chase across their unsteady infrastructure, often held up by a little rope, which in our haste, we cut to avoid pursuit at one point. I was honestly surprised that not one of us had fallen after using our weight to swing a platform across a gap, all the while fighting. It was an impossible feat, yet accomplished. However, fortune was not on our side.

"You thought you could escape me!" Came the voice of the Great Goblin. I watched as he swung at Gandalf. "What are you going to do now, wizard?" The wizard, it seemed, knew exactly what he was going to do, and sent his staff into the goblin's face, followed by a slice through the stomach.

"That'll do it." Came the Great Goblin's final words before Gandalf sliced his throat. The goblin dropped dead at our feet as his cretins surrounded us. We, however, were saved by the Great Goblin's massive corpse, though not in a pleasant manner. The poor infrastructure was no match for the giant body and gave way beneath our feet; the result being an unpleasant sleigh ride to the east exit of the tunnel. We landed with a crash that was seemingly comparable to a minor car accident. I, myself, tumbled out of the wreckage with Gandalf, though in a less than dignified manner.

"Well, that could have been worse." The ever-optimistic Bofur chimed, as he struggled to get out of the wreckage with the rest of the dwarves. As though fate had heard him, the Goblin King's corpse dropped down on the wreckage.

"You have got to be joking." Dwalin flustered. Unfortunately, it was no joke, at least for the dwarves. The relief of being alive made the sight entertaining for me. However, that quickly died as Kili pointed out the massive hoard of goblins heading towards us. Without a second thought, we fled into the safety of sunlight. Shortly after, we came to be nestled in a grove of pines. Although we were far enough away from the Goblin's clutches now, something was gravely wrong. I could see it on Gandalf's face as he finished counting the dwarves.

"Where is Bilbo?" Gandalf demanded. My heart sank. This time we truly had lost the Halfling.


	16. The Fire and Flame

Chapter 16

"Where is our Hobbit?" Gandalf asked again, his voice more demanding as he looked around him. Fili and Kili looked around as though they were half expecting Bilbo to magically appear behind them.

"Curse the Halfling. Now he's lost!" Came Dwalin's gruff response. After that, a riot broke out.

"The Last I saw, he was with Dori!" Shouted one.

"Hey, don't blame me!" Came Dori's answer.

"Well, when did you last see him?" I asked, worried. Bilbo was my friend and I did not even notice that he was missing. It left a heavy weight in my chest and the guilt created pressure, like that found in the depths of the sea, intensified from diving too quickly. It was sickening.

"I saw him slip away when they first cornered us!" answered Nori, and there was a small twinge of relief. He had gotten away from the goblins.

"Then what happened, exactly. Tell Me!" Gandalf demanded, haste and anger mangled into his voice.

"I'll tell you what happened." Thorin said briskly, strutting forward which hushed the ruckus. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it." Anger flared in me as Thorin continued. "He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and warm hearth ever since he stepped out of his door."

"How would you know?" I fumed, though my voice was eerily calm. "Have you even spoken to him, other than the times you belittled him. That hobbit owed you nothing, had a comfortable life, and yet, he followed you here, even with the expected danger to his life. If he has left, it was at your order. At your lack of faith. You know nothing."

"I know his kind well enough." Thorin shot back. "He misses the safe comfort of his life. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone." There was a piercing glare and a small hint of betrayal in his eyes as he looked into mine. I could feel the cold that I was projecting, the icy anger at the lack of faith in my friend. Our locked stare was soon interrupted.

"No, he isn't." Bilbo chirped, walking out behind Thorin and appearing just as Fili and Kili seemed to have expected, and I could hear Bofur's sigh of relief. My own breath was caught in my throat, as a small amount of guilt lifted.

"Bilbo Baggins, I have never been so glad to see a person in my whole life." Gandalf laughed with relief.

Bilbo smiled in greeting and walked forward in such a way, it was as if he had not heard what Thorin had just said. He came to a stop beside me and I wrapped one arm around him and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You gave us a good scare," I whispered, just as Kili said happily though with a hint of confusion, "Bilbo! We had given you up."

"How did you get past the goblins?" Fili wondered. I had to admit, I wanted to know as well. I had no doubt it would turn into one of the Tell-tales Gandalf promised Bilbo he would have.

"How indeed?" Dwalin echoed my thoughts and Bilbo shifted beside me, clearly not comfortable with everyone staring at him in curiosity.

"Oh, what does it matter? He's back." Gandalf said, clearly sensing the hobbit's discomfort.

"It matters." Thorin stated as he pushed through the dwarves to stand in front of Bilbo and I. "I want to know, why did you come back?"

Bilbo met his eyes and answered, "I know you doubt me. I know you always have, and you're right, I do often think of Bag End. I miss my books… and my armchair… and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, 'cause you don't have one, a home. It was taken from you. But, I will help you take it back, if I can." The smile on Bilbo's face was gone, and a look of understanding had replaced it. I smiled down at the hobbit. Oh, how much you have grown since you have left home, Master Baggins. I thought. Ilooked to Thorin then, and he did nothing to mask the guilt on his face as he averted his eyes away from Bilbo. Perhaps, he had begun to change as well.

Darkness grew quickly and ominously around us, as the sun sank. The others seemed to take no notice but, something drew near. I wondered if the goblins would leave their cave and come after us to avenge their king. Instead, something far too familiar was heard.

The warg howl sent us all into a panic, and over it, I could hear the slur of orcish speech. The chase to Rivendell flashed in my mind.

"Out of the frying pan." Thorin began.

"And into the fire." Finished Gandalf. "Run! Run!"

We ran down the slope, past rock and pine, all the way to a cliff, which left only one way to go, up. I exchanged a quick glance with Gandalf, who knew my thoughts immediately. Wargs can't climb. "Up into the trees, all of you. Come on, hide! Bilbo! Hide!" I turned from my spot, and found the Hobbit had fallen behind as he tried to dislodge his sword from a warg's skull.

"Hurry, they're coming!" Thorin shouted, as he made his way up the tree. Instead of listening to him, I made my way towards Bilbo just as he freed his sword, and turned to see the wargs coming towards him. I swung myself into the lowest branch and hoisted Bilbo up, after he had finally decided to run. We were barely at a safe height when the wargs charged beneath us.

It was not long before they began jumping at the trees and knocking against the base, trying to shake us down. Through snarls came Thorin's voice, riddled with fear and disbelief, "Azog!"

A rider on a white warg descended into the valley, his skin as pale as the beast he sat upon. His body was scarred in pattern, as though worms had eaten and tunneled through his outer flesh, and I had no doubt some of the scaring was deliberate. He spoke, taunting Thorin, though none understood him.

"It cannot be." Thorin said, grief now mingled in his voice, watching as Azog gestured towards him while giving the other orcs orders. Soon, they were upon us.

The wargs attacked the bases of the trees, and their combined weight caused an echoing snap of broken tree limbs to echo and repeat as one tree fell onto another, in a domino effect. In response, we leapt from tree to tree, until all of us were huddled in the same one as Gandalf, on the very edge of the cliff. Once again, I found myself at risk of another fall, albeit the alternative was once again more frightening. It would not be long before the wargs knocked this tree over as well, especially with our combined weight.

A ball of flame whipped past my face, almost causing me to jump from the branch in order to get away from it. Flames burst as the ball hit the ground, scattering the wargs. I looked up, just as Gandalf called, "Kili!" and threw another towards him, followed by him tossing one to me. This time I caught it, and saw the genius of it all. Gandalf had used his magic to set the pinecones alight, all in different colours of flame. Mine glowed a blue-white, and was searing hot. I used it to light two more pine cones, tossing them to Bofur and Bifur. Soon, we rained fire down upon the ground, which quickly lit and sent the wargs scattering, some screaming as the flames caught them. The dwarves cheered, but our victory was short-lived. The sudden movement caused the tree to snap, and it crashed down over the edge of the cliff, barely hanging by the root. During the fall, I lost my footing and was now dangling off a branch, the cuts on my hands tearing open once again, and the scent of iron mixed with the scent of fire as blood trickled down my arm. It was another moment, within the span of a few days, to be thankful for my upper body strength. Dori and Ori were not as lucky, having already fallen from their branch and were left dangling from Gandalf's staff.

The situation grew more desperate as the fire began to die and Azog drew closer. I watched then, as Thorin stood and began to walk towards the flames as they danced on his skin. He broke into a run. Balin shouted after him in fear, but Thorin continued. It was a foolish and desperate move. He would fail; my mind could not play out a scenario where he could win. Azog stood mounted on a warg, rested and ready, Thorin on foot, worn and already beaten down by goblins. With one swift movement of his warg, Azog already had the dwarf knocked to the ground. I struggled to pull myself up, but could not even get my other hand to grip the branch before Thorin rose again, only to be struck in the chest and sent flying. Balin's cry carried through the air and Dwalin fell in his scramble to try and aid Thorin, while I continued to struggle. I now had two hands on the branch. All the while, I watched. The warg bit into Thorin before it tossed him. He now lay away from his sword on his back, as Azog sent a henchman to finish Thorin instead of doing it himself.

"Fuck," came a stifled cry as I violently hauled the upper half of myself over the branch, just as I saw a red-clothed shape dart by me, but my eyes remained on Thorin, as I pulled my whole body up onto the branch, though I was too late. The orc was about to deliver the execution strike, a beheading, a sick mocking tribute to Thror's death. Before the sword fell, the orc was tackled to the ground and stabbed repetitively with a glowing blue-sword in the hands of a brave hobbit.

With a dead orc below him, Bilbo staggered on his feet, in front of the pale orc. He quickly took a defensive position before Thorin, who was now unconscious. In a stroke of what I would now call good luck, Azog once again assigned his minions to finish his work for him. Three warg-riding orcs strode towards Bilbo, no longer paying attention to the rest of us, and were caught unaware by our attack. Fili and I took down the warg closest to Bilbo, who was now charging into a fight. Bilbo soon ended up between the warg and orc that me and Fili were fighting and Azog, whose strike off of Bilbo's sword knocked the Hobbit to the ground. The pale orc now approached Bilbo with the intent to kill. In haste, I swiped one of Fili's throwing knives, and inexpertly threw it. I missed the orc by a great distance, but it created the distraction that I needed, as Azog's attention was drawn away from Bilbo and towards me. I narrowly dodged his strike, and was saved from the second attempt as an eagle's cry pierced the air.

The claws wrapped around my middle and I was lifted away from the orc into the sky, momentarily spared. But, Azog's eyes locked into mine, and I knew he would not forget me, not my face or the scent of my blood. The joy of this escape would be hollow soon, the taste of it the ash on the ground Azog now stood on, and I was afraid, even as we flew out of sight.

When the eagles landed in the eyrie, Thorin was still unconscious. Gandalf mumbled a few words, and the dwarf-king's breathing grew steady, but his eyes remained closed, resting. Once sure Thorin was out of immediate danger, Gandalf returned to his eagle, and thanked him. The giant eagles were Lords, the Eyrie their kingdom and our debt to them for their aid would not soon be settled. Gandalf said some parting words,and the Eagles hovered above us, as we stood in peace. For now in safety, until the Orc-pack caught up.

An hour or so later, as the sun's first light began to show in the East, Thorin regained consciousness. Gandalf called out to him, to help him rise faster.

"The Halfling…" Thorin murmured.

"It's alright." Gandalf assured. "Bilbo is right here, he is quite safe."

Upon those words, Thorin struggled to his feet, with the aid of Dwalin, Kili and I, but he soon shoved us back, in pride and in anger, and I felt myself jerk backwards, barely maintaining my balance. I watched as Thorin marched towards Bilbo, whose expression paled.

"You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!" He thundered. "Did I not say you would be a burden, that you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?" He paused. "I have never been so wrong in all my life." And he wrapped his arms around a now very shocked hobbit as we laughed and cheered. "I am sorry I doubted you."

"No, I would have doubted me too." Bilbo flustered. "I am not a hero or a warrior or even a burglar." Bilbo finished, as the eagles flew above our heads one final time and we watched them fly away.

Something caught Thorin's eye and he made his way to the edge of the eyrie. In the distance, a solitary peak stood. The only mark upon the horizon, lit up by the rising sun.

"Erebor." Gandalf said to Bilbo. "The Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth."

"Our home." Thorin marveled with longing in his eyes.

"The raven!" Exclaimed Oin, "The birds are returning to the mountain."

"That, my dear Oin, is a thrush," Corrected Gandalf.

"'Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks….'" I murmured. Thorin looked at me, and I smiled.

"We will take it as a sign, a good omen." He looked at us, and smiled back. For the first time, the smile reached his eyes, and it was beautiful. I slipped my hand into his, and gave it a small squeeze. We were so far, yet so close.

"Yes." Bilbo chimed. "I do believe the worst is behind us." And we stood there, entranced for a long while, thinking of home.


	17. Winterfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Tolkien/ Peter Jackson, besides my OC. The ASOIAF/ Game of Thrones quote belongs to G.R.R. Martin and HBO.

Chapter 17

The company all now sat gathered around a bright fire, as wounds were tended by Oin and I. My own injuries consisted of the deep, re-opened, and charred gashes on my hands, now lightly bandaged and clean. They would leave behind scarring in their wake, but they would not be the first scars to mar my body and I doubted they would be the last. My side was a midnight purple and a screaming source of agony, the bruise bone deep, but was without any breaks. The cut on my face from the whip was swollen but clean, and in overall comparison to Thorin, I deemed myself fortunate.

I worked on Thorin's torso while Oin checked the injuries of the rest of the group. Our supplies were limited now, with much of our equipment and food now rotting amongst a mass of angry goblins. Oin and I had found water and a few useful herbs, that we had used to clean wounds and bandage injuries. The warg's bite had driven Thorin's chainmail into his skin, leaving gauges with no possible way to be sealed. The herbs would at least prevent infection from setting in, but the pattern of his ringed armor would forever be marked on his torso, already covered in scars; covered in stories and horrors from the memories of when the marks were left. The muscles on his chest went rigid every time I grazed over bruised or broken skin, but Thorin made no sound and his face was expressionless as I began bandaging the deeper wounds. His stillness was a respectable quality, but it was also one developed through pain, considering it was Thorin, and most definitely sorrow. Each mark that littered the muscles of his chest and abdomen all had their own tale, and stood out amidst the fire-light, pale and detailed in a way I could not help but admire as I continued to bandage him. They reminded me of his strength and his rigidness reminded me of his pride. In that moment, I was drawn to him in a way perplexingly beyond friendship and empathy, a feeling that had grown eerily familiar on this quest and I now found myself more drawn to Thorin in this moment than any before. It was astonishingly clichéd. The wounded warrior and soldier, the god-forsaken King Under the Mountain, being treated by the delicate, sure hands of the ever-admiring female. It was nostalgically "Hollywood", a familiar cheesy scene in some movie, some story from my world. It was nauseatingly familiar, yet I would not deny my feelings at least to myself, despite whatever consequences. I, however, had no intention of acting on them either. Perhaps these feelings would pass, as they had so often before, for it would only be so long before Thorin made me angry once again. Come what may, I thought as I finished the bandages.

"Well, not my best work, but this is probably as good as gets in this situation." A small smile passed over my lips as I stood. "Try not to move around unnecessarily, at least while we are camped here. Hopefully we will have enough bandages to redress your injuries in the morning before we move out. Now, I am going to see if Oin needs anymore help."

As I turned to walk away, I felt Thorin's hand gently close around my wrist and pull me back towards him. The movement caused him to grimace slightly.

"I believe that fell under unnecessary movement." I chided, my wrist still wrapped in his hand as he shot me a look of weariness and seriousness and I inclined my head in apology.

"I want to apologize to you as well, though I thought the situation should be different with you than with the hobbit." He began. He was right, the situation was now different. Even though the group was still gathered near the fire, everyone was about their own devices. "I have spent much of this journey questioning you, your loyalty, and your quality even though you have shown me your character long ago; I ignored your advice and quarreled with you when it suited me. I am sorry for the wrongs I have done towards you." There was a heavy amount of sincerity in his voice and his deep blue eyes were shaded with an unknown emotion.

"The path of your life has not been an easy one, Thorin. Your questioning of me was to be expected, and even after you had grown to know me, what place did I truly have amongst you? What have I offered, aside from an extra sword?" I asked looking at him.

"You saved our Halfling, helped us escape from Rivendell, have put yourself in dangers many consider not suitable for a lady…" I shot Thorin a glare as he continued, "and now, here you are healing the injuries amongst the company while shouldering multiple injuries of your own, that clearly agonize you when you move. And you ask what you have offered?" Thorin finished and I remained quiet for a minute.

"I have only done what I think is right." I answered him after a moment.

"I know." He said, "Thank you."

As I turned to walk away, his hand slipped from my wrist and lingered on my hand before we parted ways.  
********************************************************

The scene was the same. White and grey snow, the jagged rock. I felt myself jump, then came the cold's brutal burn and the air rushing upward. And as I hit the bottom, I did not wake. For the second time, something pierced my body, then again and again, the feeling similar to being shot with arrows and again, the cold did not numb me from the pain.

I awoke, body rigid; freezing, yet burning. The sweat that lined my body was cold and caused my clothing to cling to me. I sat and shook as I felt the places on my abdomen and back where I had been pierced and found nothing. No scars to remind me of the pain in my dreams, to cause me to have some psychosomatic pain from their memory. I thought of Alane's dream of my death and I began to wonder if I was mixing the imagery of my old death with the pain of my future one and no matter how many times I would mutter, It was only a dream, to myself, I knew I would get no more sleep that night.

I soon found myself sitting next to Gandalf as he kept watch over the company.

"You should be asleep, Branwen. The entire company, including yourself, is beyond weary." Gandalf spoke.

"Oftentimes the sleep caused by weariness can be the most menacing." I stated, insinuating I wanted no further questions on the matter. I then sat down next to the grey wizard, who offered me a great gift, his extra pipe and a fair portion of pipe weed. With that we sat in silence for a long while, and just smoked. But even the pipe weed could not shake the dream from my mind.

"Gandalf, have I ever told you how I got the name Winterfire?" I asked.

"No, but I have always wondered." Gandalf answered, curiosity beaming from his pipe-illuminated eyes.

"It is quite a boring story, you see. When I chose to end my first life, I jumped from a cliff in a winter's storm, that part you know. The cold burned my skin, but eventually numbed me in the fall. When I lay unconscious in Lothlorien, none of the elvish healers could touch my skin. It was colder than death, they had said, and it burned them. When I awoke, my sister had told them how I had changed. My hair had become black, my skin translucent, my eyes the colour of ice, and amongst many of the elves I was considered marred by winter, as though the stain of it had tainted me to my very soul. In Lothlorien, where there was no winter, I found little welcome outside of the Lord and Lady, who knew of mine and my sister's purposes. My acceptance amongst them was eventually earned and I have many I consider friends there. However, I kept the name they gave me in mocking, Winterfire, given for the way my iced skin burned them."

"Why did you keep the name they used to mock you?" Bilbo's voice came from behind us.

"I see I am not the only one whose sleep was disturbed. Did we wake you?" I asked the hobbit.

"Yes, but it's alright, your story was interesting. Why did you keep the name?" Bilbo questioned a second time, coming closer to sit with Gandalf and I.

"Once in a book Mr. Baggins, I read some sound advice, 'Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.' I do not intend to forget what I am. They were not wrong. I am stained by my death, but for what purpose I do not know." And we remained quiet after that for a long time.


	18. In Need of A Dry Coat

Chapter 18

The Eagles returned the following morning, as Gandalf had said they would and carried us down the mountains. Their aid was very much needed, for despite our need to continue forward, I highly doubted the company could have made the descent with their injuries.

The second flight was more pleasant than the first. Without the worry over Thorin and the company, there was now nothing stopping me from taking in the full glory of the views from the sky. The rivers in the valleys below were thin blue lines as we passed between the final few snow-covered peaks. The air was light at this altitude, thinner and colder. I breathed deeply and outstretched my arms and felt the moisture on my hands as we passed through some low-bearing clouds. The colours of dawn had faded from the eastern horizon, leaving a pale blue mingled with clouds whose colours matched that of the mountain peaks. I do not remember if I shouted, if some cry of excitement and relief that we were alive left me, but I kept my eyes wide and let my blood pump through me, for there were few moments were I would be so free again in the near future.

The Eagles set us on a small hill, with well-worn stone steps making their way to the river below. At the bottom of these steps, we discovered a small cave. More rested then we had been in what felt like a long while (albeit, still injured and sore), we now discussed our future course of action.

"I always meant to see you all safe (if possible) across the mountains. ", Gandalf explained." And now, by good management and good luck, I have done it. Indeed, we are a good deal further east than I had ever meant to come with you. After all, this is not my adventure." That phrase struck me as odd, for Gandalf had given no indication of leaving the quest before leaving Rivendell. I shot him a look of questioning. "I may drop in again before it is over, but in the meanwhile I have some more pressing business to attend to." He finished returning my stare, and answering part of my question at the same time. Due to Galadriel's presence, I assumed the White Council had discussed more than preventing this quest from continuing.

I offered Gandalf no further inquiry, for my own questions were better answered in private. However, the dwarves offered relentless protest. It was hard to make out what was said, for all seemed to be speaking at once, except for Balin and Thorin, who remained quiet in the understanding that Gandalf was leaving due to a grave matter, and they trusted him to return to us again as he promised.

"Calm down master-dwarves, I will not be leaving you this very instant." He chided. "I can offer you a few days more and help you in your current plight. I even need a little help myself! We have no food, no baggage, no ponies and you do not know where you are, which is something I can tell you. We are a few miles north of our path, in a place where very few live, unless they have come here since I last passed through some years ago. But there is somebody I know of that lives not far away. That somebody made the steps on the great rock, Carrock, he calls it. He does not come here often, especially in the daytime, so we shall not wait for him. In the morning, we will be off, and if our meeting with this somebody goes well, I will bid you farewell."

More protest came from the dwarves, and I could make out Fili and Kili offering up portions of dragon gold, until Thorin silenced them, and the dwarves accepted Gandalf's decision, however grudgingly.

The dwarves and the hobbit (though reluctant), went and bathed in the river, while I remained with Gandalf, and attempted to offer them what little privacy we could. It also gave me the opportunity I needed, with the dwarves and hobbit distracted and distant.

"So," I drawled, "Pressing business?"

"It is a need-to-know business." Gandalf answered with a look meant to silence me.

"You mean its White Council business." I stated and Gandalf gave me a look of surprise, though his face went neutral quickly and most people would not have noticed his shock.

"Considering my sister is woven into some grand design not yet foreseen and is held dear to the White Lady, it should not be a surprise that I am aware of the council." I responded to his look nonchalantly.

"It is ironic, Branwen, that you believe you do not have a part to play in the design as well, as though your sister's purpose overshadows your own." Gandalf lectured.

"Let us not change the subject here, Gandalf. What business do you speak of?"

"There is a growing shadow in Southern Mirkwood, a great evil stirs there, poisoning the forest and awaking evil elsewhere, as well. You have mentioned the number of Orcs abroad yourself, have you not?"

"So, the Council has realized that their peace has been disturbed." I commented.

"Not quite, the threat was dismissed, and this matter is one I must now deal with." Gandalf answered.

"You cannot go alone, Gandalf." I told him.

"Nor will I ask for your presence there, Branwen. We both know you could not leave the company now, and they will need a guide. Besides, I do believe Radagast will be joining me." Gandalf stated with finality and a small amount of relief spread through me. Despite Radagast's oddities, he was a great wizard.

"So, you leave to fight some great evil, and I get stuck leading this bunch through land I have never travelled in before. It would be best to pray for us both now, Gandalf." I shot him a smile, and let the conversation be.

I would later be the first to admit, jumping into the stream with my clothing on was not a moment of brilliance, but I could not stand the grime from my clothing any longer. Now, night had fallen and I sat in clean but still damp clothes as the air cooled in such a way as to remind us that fall would be approaching soon and our time was wearing thin. I had refrained from shivering while everyone was still awake, for I would not acknowledge my dismissal of my own survival skills as a mistake. In the cave however, as everyone slept, I shivered like a mad woman. This is not even the coldest cold you have felt! I shouted to myself in an attempt to ignore the chill and sleep, but I could not. It was not a blistering cold; it was wet, achy, and unpleasant and my already addled brain could not handle it. I cursed myself for picking a spot too far from the fire and shivered. I shrugged out of my coat and my tunic, and was left in only a thin undershirt, so much for warmth. If I wanted to be honest, I should have stripped earlier.

I snuck around the sleeping figures, and laid my clothing by the fire, before returning to my place. I remained awake, though now slightly warmer and less uncomfortable. The goose bumps remained on my skin, and even in the cave, there was the slight feel of the night's wind from outside. The weather was changing, and soon there would be rain. The union of the hot and cold air would see to that.

When staring at the ceiling became dull, I rose, and went to offer the dwarf on watch some relief, since I was not sleeping tonight once again. Thorin sat at the entrance of the cave.

"You should be resting. Healer's orders." I gave him a small smile before sitting down beside him.

"You are one to talk. How many nights have you been without rest?" Thorin looked at me critically.

"Oh, more than I can count, but I am not the one who is severely injured." I pointed out.

"One cannot rest if sleep is unwilling to come." Thorin retorted.

"Yes, I can understand the truth in that." I muttered, thinking of my troubled dreams of late.

"Do you know where Gandalf intends to go?" Thorin asked suddenly, his voice low and intense.

"Only vaguely." I responded honestly. "There is not much I can say about it, but it is a matter of extreme importance and haste that pulls him from the company. But I do not doubt that he will return. Wizards do often go wandering in quests, but show up in time to save the day, just as we have seen."

"And what of you? Do you intend on following him?" Sincerity and concern hidden within the question.

"I have no such intentions. Gandalf is my friend and I know the road he is on leads through peril, but he will not be alone, and his actions and courses are not without reason. Besides, I could not leave the company now. You head closer to peril as well, and it already sits unwell with me that Gandalf is leaving, even if the matter is grave and of haste."

"Yet, you would have gone with him if he had asked." Thorin stated, his voice hard with the unspoken truth.

"Yes." The answer was simple, if he was going alone to a place that was of concern to the white council, how could I have done anything else? "If I knew he was venturing there alone, I would have gone with him, how could I not? He is my friend, and I would not have abandoned him to such a matter alone. That does not mean it was a decision I would have been happy to make."

"I understand. He is your friend."

"You are my friend as well. With Gandalf leaving, however temporary, it is my responsibility to ensure your safety, and use my skills to guide you, to the best of my ability. You will have to forgive me ahead of time for that, for I fear I do not know much of this land." I offered him a small smile before shivering again.

"It was foolish of you to go into the river fully clothed." He said, changing the topic.

"Yes, well, if it was not so unseasonably cold, I would be fine. Curse the weather." I responded gruffly, and he let out a small laugh and shrugged off his coat, passing it to me.

"Thank you." I mumbled, just wanting to be warm. It smelt like fire and a little like blood, but also like him, I suppose, metallic and earthy. I flushed slightly and ran my fingers through my now radically tangled hair.

"Your hair would stay neater if it was braided." He stated, watching me as I now hopelessly attempted to get through the mess. "If I may?" He prompted and moved behind me, sectioning off my hair, and I made no move nor had no wish to protest. The braid was simple, yet practical, starting as two braids that merged into one in the back. The act itself however was odd. It was strangely intimate and personal. And I looked at him as he sat down beside me. One of the beads was missing from his hair. I felt the braid, and sure enough his bead had fastened the two smaller braids into one, and it confirmed that this action was significant.

I gave Thorin a look of confusion, instead of taking the brash "What the hell?" approach to express my bewilderment. Instead of answering, his eyes lit up, and the glow of the fire behind us adorned his face. The expression he held was intimate and gave the answer to my confusion. He lifted my chin and in the fire light, we kissed for the first time.


	19. The Furrier

Chapter 19

The kiss was chaste, yet fiery. The moment our lips met, I knew how deep the intimacy behind the braiding went and could feel the weight of the cultural significance of it. It was the answer to a question, yet a question itself. It was a demand to know if I felt the same way and as he pulled away, our eyes met. In that instant he knew my answer and he pressed his forehead against mine. I had to return the gesture he had presented me with. I fumbled with my hands and slid a ring off of my finger. It was a simple band, the silver knotted in a unique pattern. It was the first I had ever bought for myself, the start of a collection. They began as small trinkets, with no special meaning or intent, but grew to serve as reminders of faith and trust, a piece of myself and a token of my roots.

"I have worn this ring since I was seventeen. It's a small reminder of home." I pressed the ring into his palm, knowing further words were not necessary. The ring was too small for him to wear, being meant for my slim fingers. The space between us increased as he lifted his head, and slid the ring on the chain that held the key to Erebor. Our eyes met again and his were feverish and intent.

The second kiss was more demanding, and his hands slid around my waist and pulled me closer, so that the upper half of my body melded into his. My fingers wound into his hair as his tongue brushed along my lower lip, seeking entrance to my mouth, which I readily allowed and the kiss deepened further.

We were so lost in the intensity that we barely heard it, the quiet shifting of someone waking up. Within a heartbeat of hearing the movement for a second time, our bodies shot apart and not at all too soon, for I turned to find Kili had risen for his watch. He waved wearily at me and joined us on the bench, seemingly unsuspicious. "Couldn't sleep, Branwen?" The question rolled off his tongue lazily as he sat between me and his uncle.

"No, there seems to be no rest for the weary." I responded, with a half-smile. "But at least there was company." I gave Thorin a small look before rising from my place. "I think, however, I will tempt fate and try once again to sleep. Thank you for the coat." I said to Thorin.

"Pray, do not mention it." Came Thorin's quiet reply, though it meant something different, and his look said, "This will continue sometime, alone." And the look lingered, even after I had returned to my resting place.

Just as I began to drift into slumber, I heard Kili's voice, "I wonder what she could have found so interesting about your company, uncle." He was clearly far more observant then he had led on, and I laughed at the image of Thorin's face as he silenced Kili. I left consciousness with a smile on my face for the first time in a long while.

"We are getting near!" Gandalf chimed, as we made our way through bee-filled pastures, clovers of purple and white covering the land, all sweet-smelling and lovely. The bees were the size of the hobbit's thumb, and they flitted away through the fields, showing the true meaning of what it meant to be busy as a bee. "We are on the edge of his bee pastures."

"And who is this 'he' you are referring to, Gandalf?" Thorin questioned, his authoritative state returning as the Wizard lead us to another mysterious place. There had not been so much as a glance between us all day, and I would have thought I had hallucinated the night before if not for my missing ring and braided hair. I knew I would have to wait, for in this moment, Thorin needed to be a leader, with our quest being on the move once again, if even for a short while.

"The friend I mentioned yesterday. Beorn is his name. He is very strong and he is a skin changer." Gandalf answered.

"What? A furrier?" Bilbo asked.

"Good gracious, no. No!" Gandalf nearly shouted. "Don't be a fool Mr. Baggins, though I do not know if you can help it! And in the name of wonder, do not mention the word furrier within a hundred miles of his house ever again! He is a skin changer, I said. Therefore, he changes his skin. Sometimes he is a big black bear, sometimes a strong black haired man, with huge arms and a beard. His history is a legend and that is all I know, though I have certainly told you more than enough. He lives in a great wooden house in an oakwood and is under no enchantment but his own. He keeps many cattle and horse, all of which are as marvelous, nearly as much as he is. They work with him and talk to him. He does not eat any of them nor any wild animal. He thrives on cream and honey.

"Now, you had all better wait here,"Gandalf continued, "until I call or whistle. Then come in pairs, no more than that and with five minutes between each. Bombur, since you are the largest, you can wait until last. Branwen will stay here with you. Alright, Master Baggins, if you would follow me." And Gandalf led the hobbit away.

Time flew by agonizingly slow, but it left me a chance to think about the previous night's encounter. There was little opportunity for discussion between Thorin and I this morning, as Gandalf had insisted that we move quickly, not that there was the privacy to say what needed to be said, anyways. Yet Thorin's words lingered, This will continue sometime, alone. And I knew that I did want it to continue, that a familiar feeling now pooled deep in my heart, a feeling that I recognized from long before I came to this world, but had not felt since coming here, until the recent weeks. It was love, something that had grown out of a deep-seated empathy and caring, and it was not as frightening as it should have been. Even with little mention of the events from last night, the bead in my hair served as a reminder that this feeling was returned.

Our group dispensed until me and Bombur stood waiting for the call. "I am always last," Bombur muttered, interrupting my thoughts, "And always for the same reason." It was slightly heart-breaking to hear, and it left the image of the child who was picked last for gym. In the moment, Bombur probably could not look past his current position in the group.

"You aren't always last, Bombur." I stated, "I mean, you have proven yourself in battle, are good company, and a damn good cook. I do not think I have eaten as well as I have done on this quest in the wild, ever. Sometimes people's words are harsh and unfair, as we have seen in this company. It does not mean they do not value you, despite their actions and words." I gave him a quick grin, which he returned.

"I think it's our turn now." I said a few minutes later. With that, we made our way to a gate, the sun becoming unforgivably hot, leaving me to wonder how the previous night could have been so bone-chillingly cold. We ventured past low-thatched roofed buildings, and animals that looked at us with keen eyes. There was a long wooden house at the end, which we now made our way towards. It was made of unshaped logs, and held the air of a log cabin. The inside was much the same, and offered few rooms. There was a large wooden table in the center of the main room, at which the rest of the company now sat, and it smelt of smoke. It was a rather comfortable place.

"Well, the last I had heard, fourteen was not sixteen, Gandalf." Came a loud, booming voice.

"No, indeed not. The last two have just seemed to arrive. Bombur and Branwen are their names." Gandalf introduced us.

"Yes. I assume this is all who were in the trees. Now may we perhaps finish the story without any further interruption?" The giant, black haired man requested and Gandalf complied, earning us all a seat at Beorn's table and a safe place to rest for a while.

Beorn left us late that night, to where was unknown. He had been a good-humored and hospitable host, despite his rough nature, for we were all well fed and soon to be well-rested. The dwarves gathered around the hearth, and lead by Thorin, began to sing a familiar tune:

The wind was on the withered heath,  
But in the forest stirred no leaf:  
There shadows lay be night or day,  
And dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold,  
And like a tide it roared and rolled.  
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,  
And leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East;  
All movement in the forest ceased.  
But shrill and harsh across the marsh,  
Its whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,  
The reeds were rattling-on it went.  
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,  
Where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,  
And swept above the dragon's lair:  
There black and dark lay boulders stark,  
And flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight  
Over the wide seas of the night.  
The moon set sale upon the gale,  
And stars were fanned to leaping light.

And as they sang, I looked into the flames. I saw a tragedy unfold, a city burned and lost. I also saw the events of a few nights past unfold once again before me. Thorin had relived them in silence. He had seen his Grandfather's murderer return, and ill-foe that he had once thought dead, yet he had made no word of it after the battle. It haunted him now though, as he sang more verses, the ghosts that had returned barely hidden in his eyes and it was something he suffered alone, in his pride. It was a fact that haunted me then, as my mind fogged and the realm of sleep took me.


	20. An Offer of Counsel

Chapter 20

I awoke, nestled deep within the wool blankets I had fallen asleep in, to the scuffling of an animal outside the great hall, its greatness blocking out the silver light of the moon. If it had not been for the small growl, I would have been frightened as, thankfully, the beast made the sound of a bear and not a warg. It was most likely Beorn, in his other skin. This did not stop the hobbit from shuddering slightly. I could see he had awoken as well. Bilbo's eyes now watched the door warily, but soon sleep took him again. Even I could not deny the wonder that these straw beds caught, and I returned to my slumber in the pale moonlight, listening to the sound of fifteen others breathing as the embers to our fire died. The smell of smoke and warm blankets blocked any thought of the cold from my mind and my dreams were empty.

I awoke with a sudden jolt and head-butted Bofur in the nose, my first full night's rest, since leaving Rivendell, which had deeply consumed me. Bilbo's tired eyes were now wide open as he stared at the floor where Bofur lay clutching his face.

I let out a grown. "I am so sorry, Bofur!" I exclaimed.

"No blood, no harm." The dwarf said, "But I am never waking ye up again, late for breakfast or no."

"Fair enough," I replied, helping him to his feet, before turning to the table, and glancing at the breakfast that had been laid out for us, or at least what was left, the company having already consumed the vast majority of it. However, I was more interested in the absence of the host and our wizard. No doubt, one or the other would return with some troubling tale. The thought was a little grim as I sat at the table.

"Where is Gandalf?" Bilbo questioned, voicing my silent concern. "Surely he could not be leaving us yet?"

"I very much doubt he would leave us without word or some sense of direction." I knew that much, but his unscheduled disappearance did not sit well with me and I barely tasted the food I ate, despite its richness.

Bear tracks varying in size surrounded the house, which had been a clear meeting place the night before. They all led in different directions, though the largest had a set of human footprints beside them. They were obviously the wizards'. And from the stride length, I could tell he had been running. I followed them to the gate, and looked along the trail they had created, up towards the Carrock. I had the thought to follow them, but instead I remained at the gate waiting, watching.

The joy that came with all of us surviving the ordeal in the Misty Mountains was leaving me. Our rescue by the Eagles did not guarantee our safety forever. We may be safe here, but it will not be long before we left, and what then? Azog was still alive, as were his orcs, and they had been following us for a long time. The chase before Rivendell was clearly of his design, and the way he watched as the Eagles flew away with us told me enough. He would track us, to the Lonely Mountain, and leave us pinned between him and the dragon.

"Danger behind us and danger ahead, and soon our wizard will be gone." I muttered and I began to wonder when I had become so bleak and faithless, lying in wait for ill news, when I knew there was still hope. That was when I turned away from the gate. The ill-news could wait, and I could afford to celebrate the fact that we are all alive a little bit longer.

The Company was out and about on my return. Fili and Kili were practicing sword-fighting with Bilbo, while Dwalin gave instruction from the sidelines. Dori and Ori sat under a tree in silence as Ori wrote in his journal, which was surprisingly not lost from the caves. Nori was nowhere to be seen. Bofur and Bombur were napping under a tree of their own as Bifur whittled. Overall, everyone seemed content, happy in this small paradise, even if it was only temporary.

I returned to the house to find Thorin and Balin, deep in whispers, in an attempt to keep the company at its current ease. I could see the worry in Balin's face, though neither had paid me any mind since I had entered.

"You knew." If a whisper could ever sound like a shout, this was it. There was anger and betrayal mingled in his voice. Balin shrank back, a look of guilt and defeat on his face. "How could you not have told me? How long have you known?"

"It does not matter." I interrupted before Balin could speak. There was no kindness when Thorin's eyes fell upon me, his glare of betrayal continuing.

"This is a matter between King and council." Thorin stated, indicating I was dismissed and not wanted. Behind the anger, his eyes were begging me to leave.

"Then I offer you my council." I continued. "Whether Balin and Gandalf knew of the Pale Orc's survival no longer matters. They had their reasons for not telling you, and you must accept them, even if you do not like them. The only relevant fact is that he did survive and now danger faces us on both sides of the road. We cannot afford to argue amongst each other."

"Branwen is right, Thorin. I will not make excuses for my decision, but arguing over this now will bring us no good." Balin offered sadly.

Thorin stared between the two of us. "How can I trust your council now?"

"Because I am your friend Thorin, as well as your counselor. Because you are my King." Balin stated, returning Thorin's gaze, which softened slightly.

He nodded to the older dwarf. "I do not doubt your loyalty Balin, but we now face another peril. This one unexpected. You are dismissed, Balin." He said, but before Balin left, Thorin gripped his shoulder and gave him another incline of his head. It was a small sign that he understood Balin's reasoning, a sign of forgiveness, even if Thorin could not make peace of it within himself.

Thorin and I were now alone in the hall, though the atmosphere was not like the last time, when we only had the others' company.

"Did you know as well?" There was no anger in his voice, only a deep heaviness. He had seen one of his worst terror's resurrected and internalized the feelings that followed. Azog's survival weighed him down with another failure in his mind, another weight to bear. It was hidden on his face, but it radiated off of his words.

"No, I did not." And that was the truth.

"Then how did you know that the wizard knew as well?" Thorin pressed, the question accusatory but not aggressive.

"From piecing together things that he had said, or glances exchanged between him and Balin. It seemed logical that he knew as well." I responded. There had been small clues to reflect on, the look Balin and Gandalf had exchanged when Thorin claimed thst the pale orc was dead, to how he reacted to the warg scout, stating how Thorin was being hunted. "And I know the feeling of betrayal that comes with them not telling you, but as I said, this cannot divide the company. It's too dangerous for that."

"I know." Was all he responded with before he pressed his forehead to mine, in a lapse of his kingly demeanor, anger and fear radiating from him as I gripped his shoulders. We remained quietly like that a long time, for during these moments that we were alone, Thorin did not have to bear the weight of a king.

The dwarves had returned to the hall for supper when Gandalf had reappeared.

"Where have you been and where is our host?" Thorin interrogated, his stoic composure returned, at least as a mask.

"I will only answer one question at a time, Master Dwarf, and only after supper. I do not believe I have eaten since breakfast." And eat he did: Two loaves of bread gone with a massive amount of butter, washing it down with a quart of mead. When he finally finished, he exclaimed: " I will answer your questions…" but he paused then, "but bless me this is a great place for smoke rings." And he lit his pipe and began to puff away in silence, only motioning for me to join him. And who was I to refuse, when I knew opportunities for smoking would run quite short in the future.

After the stress-relieving smoke, Gandalf told his tale. "I was following bear tracks. There must have been regular bears here last night as well, for Beorn could not have made all those tracks. There were far too many and they were of various sizes too. They came from every direction, and I'd say they were dancing outside this hall from dark 'til dawn. The largest set of foot prints led away from here, towards the way we entered just yesterday, so I followed them as far as the Carrock. It was an easy enough path to remember, though crossing the river was difficult. By the time I had found a place to wade across, it was too late to follow the tracks, but I could only assume they were heading to where we experienced our warg and orc party three nights ago. And now it seems I have answered both your questions." Gandalf finished.

"What happens if the wargs track him back here to us?" Bilbo asked, his fear legitimate.

"He won't. As I have said, he is no friend of theirs and no orc would dare to cross into his lands. Clearly your wits are sleepy, so to bed."

And many did go to bed, until only Balin, Gandalf, Thorin, and I remained around the fire. I was the first to speak, my voice barely audible, for we did not need the others to wake. "The hobbit's fears were legitimate, Gandalf."

"I know they were, but the orcs will not come onto this land and the way around it is long."

"But they will come." Thorin stated knowingly.

"Eventually yes. I told you before that you were being hunted." Gandalf explained.

"Yes, just never by who." Thorin shot back quietly.

"No, for you would have sought him out like a fool instead of continuing forward." Gandalf said abruptly and Thorin knew there was truth in that.

"Regardless, we will continue to be hunted, but they do not know where our path lies. The eagles will have broken our trail, leaving nothing for them to track. We have time, and if we do not go looking for danger, we will be safe for a while longer." I finished, and a small amount of hope returned to our small council, and we all once again slept peacefully in Beorn's hall.


	21. The Last Night

Chapter 21

We were all quite suddenly awoken by the booming voice of Beorn, "So here you are still!" His voice echoed through the hall. He then lifted a freshly risen Bilbo and laughed, "Not eaten up by wargs or goblins or wicked bears yet I see!" He then poked at Bilbo's waistcoat and the hobbit was more aghast then before, obviously not used to being manhandled. "Little bunny is getting nice and fat again on bread and honey! Come and have some more!" He said, and set the startled hobbit down. He was correct, we had all begun to look healthy again, now that we were eating regularly, and we happily joined the large man and broke our fast.

Beorn seemed rather pleased as he ate, and was in a mood far more pleasant than our first meeting. He was ridiculously humorous and his good nature had us all laughing around the table, with his stories and tales. It was not long before a more serious note slipped into his tales. He soon told us where he had gone off to two nights previous. It was his intent to prove our story true and just as Gandalf had told us; the bear-man went up the Carrock and retraced our steps back to the now burnt glade. "It was a good story, yours. Though I like it better now that it is proved to be true!" He exclaimed before continuing to tell us that he found a set of scouts in the area.

"What did you do with the orc and warg?" Bilbo asked.

"Come and see." Then Beorn brought us out to the garden and on a spike sat the head of an orc with the skin of a warg. "There were more scouts in the area, according to this one here and they seem mighty displeased at you all. However, none have traced your trail down the mountain as of yet." Most of the company looked relieved at the news, but a grim expression fell over Gandalf, Balin, Thorin, and Dwalin.

"We cannot remain here much longer." I muttered to the grey-clad wizard on my right.

"No, indeed not. I believe we should leave on the morrow." The wizard replied.

"It may be better if we left now." I suggested.

"Not yet. Beorn has proven himself a valuable ally and friend. If our true purpose were told to him, he may offer us the much-needed supplies required for the rest of our journey, because if you remember, we have none." Gandalf huffed.

And the wizard had Thorin, begrudgingly, do just that, and our supplies were packed by that evening, with the promise of ponies and horses in the case of Gandalf and I. The supply would last us weeks, which was good. From Beorn's description of Mirkwood, food would be scarce once we entered the forest. I could only hope there would be enough.

The sun set behind the Misty Mountains in the west as I walked alone in Beorn's pastures, taking in what I could before we left, imprinting the images in my mind, so that I could record them in my journal when I returned to my sister. The sky was arrayed in yellow and crimson, slowly fading into a bruised purple. The night was promising to be clear and there was hope for the stars, even if all but a few were drowned out by the moon.

I found myself a seat in a grove of oak trees which offered privacy from the house but I could still see the sky if I lay back and the mountains were framed by the trees in the west, and that is where I slept, unintentionally, with the scent of oak and sky about me.

The footsteps of someone attempting to tread lightly roused me. There was no longer crimson bleeding into the sky, but instead silver, by the full light of the moon, and the trees cast long shadows about the grove as the familiar footsteps drew closer.

"Gandalf said you would not return until later, though I did not expect you to still be absent when I awoke in the middle of the night." His smile was slight.

"Really? From what I recall, we are both known to go missing and wander after the sun sets." I replied as he sat beside me and I leaned against him.

"There is truth in that," Thorin paused and was quiet for a moment, "We are alone now."

"I am aware," I stated, turning my head to meet his eyes, the moon painting his face in silver.

"Then I must say what I could not a few night's previous,"Thorin began, his tone was now serious, "Though I do not know exactly how to express it… My gesture was not a hollow one… the time on this quest, the time I have spent knowing you has changed me and my thoughts of you have distracted me from my purpose and from this quest, though I can no longer deny them. I have come to care for and admire you and though I intended to hold my feelings within my heart, I will tell you now that I love you and have for some time now. Your returned gesture gave me hope that you feel the same, but I must hear the words from you still. Branwen, will you accept my courtship?" The confession was Darcyesque. It was a scene in Pride and Prejudice, a proposal from someone proud but unable to deny his feelings any longer. The familiarity brought a smile to my lips.

"Why, I must say that I will accept, for I do not believe I could deny my own heart what it wants much longer, as I have come to love you as well." His eyes bore into me as I gave my answer and in the next moment, there was no more air as his lips crashed into mine.

Our bodies drew close and I ran my hands over his chest, feeling his muscles through the thin fabric he wore when he slept. My hands were soon entwined in his hair as he deepened the kiss and his tongue invaded my mouth, exploring as his hands ran up my sides. Panting, we broke the kiss minutes later, and his eyes met mine. There was hunger in them; a dark look that I was sure was reflected in my own eyes. It had not been long since I had been intimate with another person, but the last time I had truly loved the person I was with was longer than I could remember, and now my mind was clouded, a soggy haze of chemicals flowing through my brain and when he whispered, "Are you sure this is what you want?" There was no other answer but yes, because I loved him, because I wanted him.

I removed his tunic in a fluid motion and pushed him onto his back and straddled him, kissing him down his chest, over old scars and freshly risen skin, as though trying to learn their stories. Slowly, I made his way to his breeches and undid them without hesitation. He moved to assist, but I quickly pushed him down and shook my head. "Just stay still." I then moved down to his boots and removed them, before returning to the edge of his undone breeches and swiftly pulling them off, leaving him naked and already hard before me. My hand ghosted over his length and he let out a growl of frustration. "I think I am at an unfair disadvantage-Mahal." It started out as a growl and quickly faded into a moan as I ran my tongue over the tip of his cock. The first moan was soon followed by a more feral one as I took him into my mouth and bobbed my head up and down his length as I hollowed out my cheeks. His hand fisted hard in my hair as I continued to work him, tongue running along the underneath of his shaft as he urged me to take him deeper. As he began to throb in my mouth, I pulled away, hearing a loud groan of protest before I silenced him with a kiss.

That kiss soon became his advantage and he used it to flip me beneath him and take control. He bit my lip as pulled away and slid my own tunic over my head, tossing it away readily. My breast bindings soon followed. His mouth returned to my body, kissing my neck, but that quickly turned to teeth and tongue, and my throat was left with a trail of bite marks. His hand kneaded my left breast as he continued to work his way down and I bit my lip at his touch. When his mouth captured my right nipple I let out a harsh cry and he rolled my left nipple between his thumb and finger. I ground against him then and he moaned before continuing to lick and kiss his way down in between my thighs, only pausing to remove my breeches. I was now laid naked before him, unashamed, waiting as his eyes wandered my body in a heated lust, before returning to his previous position. He never broke eye contact as he lowered his head and brushed his tongue against my clit. I bucked against him and his dark chuckle sent vibrations throughout my body. He flicked my clit a few more times before thrusting his tongue into my entrance, tasting me as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Just as I began to convulse, so close to the edge, he briskly moved up to my mouth, kissing me to stifle my cry of disappointment and making me taste myself. But, instead of tormenting me, he inserted a thick digit and rubbed my clit with his thumb as we continued to kiss. I ground against his palm as he inserted another finger, and soon found my release and I cried his name into our kiss.

As my pleasure began to fade, Thorin broke the kiss and I could feel him hot and heavy against my thigh. He positioned himself against my entrance, and slid in slowly until he was sheathed completely inside of me, moaning my name as I clenched around him, his thrusts started slow and I met each one. Each thrust was deliberate and long, passionate, pulling all the way out only to sheath himself fully in me once again. When he grew closer to his own orgasm, he began to quicken his pace, his thrusts more frequent and erratic and I found myself drawing closer to another release. My hand found my clit and played with it until my body spasmed around Thorin, whose release quickly followed with a cry of my name.

We lay beside each other on the grass, still tangled in each other's bodies, whispering words of affection to one another, as the night waned and the stars faded under dawn's first light. We lazily walked back to the house, and only separated to prepare for the next step of the journey ahead.


	22. The Costs

Chapter 22

The morning was spent packing and preparing. The ponies were saddled, the food divided and packed, and so on. The occasional glance was stolen between me and Thorin. I could see the temporary relief and glint of happiness in his eyes, and the gesture was returned by me. We were leaving safety once again, and Thorin's kingly demeanor had returned coupled with the weight of responsibility for the company. Gandalf was leaving, and our road was treacherous and little-known. The events of the previous night held so much promise, so much change, and it seemed almost difficult to think about. Our courtship now linked my fate to the success of the journey more so than before. I was bound to Erebor's King, and once it was reclaimed, I would then be Queen and that was a strange thought, but it was one that I welcomed. My adventuring was still far from done, and would continue as Queen, that much was decided. There would be much to be done, even after the quest, and there would be a mountain to explore and restore, and that in itself would be its own journey. But all of this depended on our success, and I was hopeful for our company's chances, but I also felt bleak. There was a long way to go before any semblance of the future was a possibility. This I knew well, and much of this journey's success now depended on me, and thus I was going to be thrust into the realm of leadership early, as I guided King and Company through peril to a place I had never seen but would call home. And I felt for the first time that I could truly call a place my home.

"Your journey through Mirkwood will be dark and difficult," was the beginning of Beorn's farewell. "Water is not easily found there, nor is food. I doubt very much anything you find in Mirkwood will be wholesome enough to eat or drink. There is one stream there I know and it is black. You must neither drink nor bathe in it, for I hear it carries an enchantment of drowsiness and forgetfulness. I doubt you will be able to shoot anything, wholesome or not, in the dim shadows without straying from the path and this you must not do, for any reason."

"That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest I can no longer be of aid and you must send back your horses and ponies. From that point, your luck and courage will be the only thing you can rely on. I wish you all speed and my house is open to you if you come back this way again."

"You have our thanks, Master of the wooden hall. We are ever at your service." And Thorin meant these words sincerely, despite the grave feelings that came with Beorn's words.

Once out of Beorn's earshot, Bofur chirped, "Just think, we will pass all the perils on the road and there will be a dragon still waiting at the end," with a large amount of cheery sarcasm, and though I chuckled, no one else's mood seemed to improve.

It felt good to be on a horse again, though my muscles ached. The chestnut-coloured mare had a personality of her own, and she reminded me of Stormdancer, who now rested safe in Rivendell, having been recovered by Alane and Elrond after our first run-in with the wargs. There was a slight bob of confidence in this mare's step and I could tell she was intelligent, just as all of Beorn's animals were. As I rode in the front beside Thorin, Gandalf was speaking with the hobbit not far behind. I could feel the annoyance of her through the reigns and her desire to go faster. She purposely remained a nose ahead of Thorin's pony, just so she was in the lead. It amused me greatly, and was a simple thing to smile about as we travelled towards a road unknown.

"Do you think it is wise to take this path, if it is so little known?" Thorin sought in council.

"I trust in Beorn's advice. The Old Forest Road is known by many and it is the one we will be expected to use, and we may cross paths with the orcs again, as it also takes us out of the safety of Beorn's land sooner." I stated. The company itself had seemed to have forgotten our impending path, and they were rather joyous, for I could make out the hint of a song. Unfortunately, Thorin did not have that liberty, and neither did I, if I was expected to lead them through Mirkwood.

"This path will lead us across the north of Mirkwood, and we may encounter another problem, other than orcs." Thorin added quietly.

"That was a rather crude way to allude to elves, but you are right. We cannot be discovered by Thranduil. Strangers are little welcome in his halls, especially now that the Greenwood has changed," There was a tinge of annoyance in my voice, for there was now another obstacle to avoid, "and though you are no stranger, Thorin Oakenshield, you will find less welcome than any other."

I had no doubt that if caught, the elven king would do all in his power to prevent this quest from continuing, and it was not unjustified. If we failed, what then? The dragon would awaken and would attack, with Mirkwood lying a short distance away. Thranduil's people would face ruin through the wrath of a dragon, and elves have seen much of that ruin in their histories. It is a heavy weight to know our lives were not the only ones at risk.

"You know that we cannot afford to fail, Thorin." I continued.

"I know." He said solemnly. "Many that I love and many more are at risk and their fates sealed with our success or failure. If not for Gandalf's faith, I would have deemed this journey hopeless. If the path behind us was not full of peril as it is, I would be of a mind to send Fili and Kili back."

"They would follow the company to the end, whether you willed it or not, so it would be a fruitless effort." I told him with certainty. "There is no turning back, Thorin, not for any of us."

"I know." He sighed heavily. "I would just see them safe, you as well."

"And I would see you wholesome again, your home restored to you. You could not send me away from this quest, and my safety is not yours to guarantee, Thorin, despite the care you have for me."

"It is not my place to order you from this quest. Yet, you are my future queen, and I have mingled your fate with the outcome of this quest." Thorin stated.

"I mingled my fate with this quest long ago, of my own volition. You have no fault in its outcome, Thorin, even though I am to be your queen. Do not trouble yourself with this also, for it will become another weight to carry, and I do not want our courtship to be one of burden." My voice was low, so that none of the others heard and Thorin stared back at me lovingly as I spoke these words, all the heaviness from his body disappearing as if he had finally found a sturdy oak to lean on after a hard day. It was some form of relief mixed with joy.

"I love you for all your strength and courage, Winterfire, and I love you all the more for knowing what to say. You will be a great queen."

"I know." I smiled, and we continued to ride until the sunset, thinking about the future and what our journey's conclusion would be, if it would change us.


End file.
